RudyGasparrini

I got used to death before, after my grandmother, my uncle Peter, and a few of my parents' high school friends. I thought I'd be able to get used to it out here too, but I guess things are different when you're the one causing the death and when you have no one to help you get over it.

I wish I could do things right. For myself, for the people around me, the people I love. It never works out that way though. I do stupid shit and it has consequences, I know it does but I keep doing it. It's like my body will do anything to survive but my mind wants the exact opposite. 

This is not a story about love. It is not a story about heartbreak but my life revolves around that. After what I did to him it's all it can revolve around. I deserve death. He deserved to take me with him, but he didn't. Unfortunately I'm still here.



---A spin-off to the After Death series. This story focuses on a new group of survivors, including an apocalypse-orphaned 17 year old boy from Ohio named Valentine Evans, as they struggle to make a life for themselves. 

Warning: This story contains adult content and is intended only for mature audiences

FEAR WHAt I'LL BECOME AFtER DEAtH

Chapter 3: I Love You, But I Have to Leave

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I was in more pain than I've ever been in. The bullet was still inside of me; every time I moved even slightly, I was reminded of it. The excruciating agony made it difficult to focus on anything else.

Arwen took care of me. They cleaned and dressed my wound with more fabric ripped off of Abby's old sweater, their gentle touch providing some relief from the constant throbbing. Despite the chaos and danger surrounding us, Arwen's presence brought a sense of comfort and calmness that I desperately needed in that moment. The bleeding never truly stopped. I didn't have stitches, which made it take a lot longer to even begin to heal. I knew I would have to get the bullet out at some point, but I decided that was a problem for later. Eventually the pain became bearable, but then I was left thinking about what the hell we were going to do with ourselves.

We stayed in the classroom for about a week. After two days, I think, I pulled the bullet out with my own hands. I winced as I removed the bullet, feeling a mix of relief and fear. It made Arwen feel sick. Doing that hurt more than the shot initially, but I couldn't have just let it stay there.

When I could walk, I watched the dead from the window in the door. I watched them wander in the halls, and I wasn't startled when they banged on the door and stared at me with their lifeless eyes. I liked the way they looked at me, as if I were one of them. I felt like I should be one of them. I couldn't help but wonder if I would eventually become just like them—a lifeless creature wandering aimlessly.

"We're out of food; we have to go, or we're as good as dead," one of the students whispered to her friend.

"And how exactly do you expect to get out of here? And what are you going to do when you get out? You're going to have to kill those things, you know, right?" I asked, having a decent guess of what their answer might be. She looked away in silence. I shook my head in disbelief before slowly walking towards the door. It felt like I'd stared at it for days.

"Valentine? What are you doing?" Abby asked from behind me. I didn't feel it necessary to answer. Without thinking, I opened the door and the dead's attention was glued to me. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe it was the combination of the blood loss and aspirin but the whole thing feels like something I didn't do. I let the dead inside and as far as I can remember only Arwen, Abby, Aspen, Nic, and I made it out of that classroom alive.

I left the group all together not long after. I felt like a burden; I didn't want to feel like that anymore. I just needed a break, even if it meant risking everyone I love's trust.

Chapter 3 (I Love You, But I Have to Leave)