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A Sweet Bitter

Smile

 In life, a bittersweet taste is always needed, from the time I was born to the time I die. Right now, I could use both. I’m a hero, well not really, my mom is. Along with my deceased dad and a couple of other lunatics who sought to save the world. I only wished they could have brought me too, which they did, in my mom’s womb. When the world was invaded by zombies--yes actual zombies. Not the ones that sit there stare at you and if you're dumb enough to get close enough, they’d bite you. These zombies were fast- like vampire fast. The good news is I don’t have to deal with them because my mom found a cure. Letting the human race once again befall itself in its own way. Or until the cure no longer works, I had hope it would. I hate the way people treat me.

 Grace you’re amazing, Grace can I have your autograph, Grace talk about the zombies, Grace you’re so pretty, Grace, Grace, Grace. Lord I had baggage I wished I could share some. Luckily my life is going to change. Deep inside, everyone knew it would return. Whether through a crack, a rat bite, even an injection or a typical lunatic that wants to control the world. The virus will return to hunt and to kill.

⚞☣⚟

 Monday morning the sun is out, no wait, that’s just my lamp. I got up, my chocolate hair in a disheveled mess; I didn’t need a mirror just a simple touch of my hand. How unfortunate to have curly hair. Grunting I eyed the clock, seven minutes loss of sleep. A regular Grace-full morning for me, I turned off the alarm clock heading into the shower, ready for a fruit filled school day. In fruit filled meaning, Rebecca stashing her tricks on me--last week was the meat hat day. But, oh, did I have a plan for Rebecca today. Time to get even. Finishing my routine: brushing teeth, putting contacts on, dressing myself. I made a quick trip downstairs from my dull gray room.

 “Morning, Grace,” Laura greeted me with a plate full of mashed things, I would call them. Let’s say my foster mom wasn’t a great cook. I tried to smile sweetly while poking the gray matter with my fork, but it was another mysterious substance I did not want to endure today. “Well, go on it eat it.”

 Dylan, my foster dad came down saving the day by averting Laura's attention with a kiss. “Kiddo, here.” He threw me a red apple, I perfectly caught the juicy round fruit.

 I couldn’t help, but notice how Dylan and Laura made a fine quintessential couple. Their formal attire believably peered any unknowing eyes to label them rich. It appeared as if I was the one to make the food with my dried worn out sneakers, simple black blouse, and faded blue skinny jeans. What did my mom and dad look like together? Reevaluating the importance of the thought, I let out, “I’m going to be late again.”

 Dylan gazed at the clock realizing it too--mornings are short. Hastily I hauled myself into the garage then into the black sedan. Dylan started the engine, and it roared to life with the clamor of a lion. Waving goodbye to Laura, I let out a detached sigh. Dylan’s stone white hand, cranked up the radio, to his distaste rock music is on. He’s always liked rock music before the invasion of crazed zombies. Now it was a sore reminder of his past, a wound he can never heal. Not that I had ever gotten a single detail out of him during his survival days in the zombie world. Whenever I asked, the only response would be ‘don’t worry about it’.

 The school began to emerge in the dark shadow of clouds drifting up above my head. Forever it’s been this way, not a single drop of rain in the past two weeks. Only clouds mocking civilization making them guess when it was going to strike. Were the zombies like that? Dylan pulled to a stop in front of the buildings huge letters Light Crane High School--the flaming birds. I wish it would catch on fire so I could save it and not be overshadowed by my mom’s legacy. Grabbing my satchel bag, I headed toward the gates watching as Dylan fought other drivers to leave. Students passed by giving me strange looks yet smiling when I stare at them for awhile.

 Each intersecting corridor was decorated with a flaming bird design on the floor, the wings stretched; the first time I got here I thought it was an angel with golden wings. That’s when I met her, my former enemy Rebecca-witch, speaking of the devil’s candidate here she comes. Her brittle hair was in a braid swishing back and forth along her summer dress--which made no sense considering it was cloudy--while she bounced on her heels. I hope she’ll trip. Rebecca passed me, ignoring the death glare I sent her way. It’s funny that Rebecca chose to  wear an outfit similar to what she wore the day I toppled her down the stairs. Don’t ask why I did it. There was a little icky feeling I got whenever I saw her like a poisonous venom was within me.

 I continued my morning stroll to Mr. Cash’s class, the one nearest to the library, my favorite spot. I had just recently finished a book about zombies--ironic. Once inside, a friendly girl jumped in front of me, blocking the entrance to the library. Blonde curls draped across her blue diamond eyes while the rest is pulled in a ponytail. Only Miriam would know the struggles of having curly hair like her favorite compeer. In her hand was a purse and the other a bagel handed to me.

 “Thanks.” I happily took the warm bagel spread with cream cheese. Taking a bite out of the bagel, Miriam and I walked into class. Mr. Cash’s angry eyes scrutinized us for being tardy, but I really do not care. They had bad bells at this school, so it’s technically the school’s fault.

 “Class stand for the pledge,” Mr. Cash didn’t wait for me to be seated. As he stood up, the dirt that clung to his pants crumbled, his sweater smelled of old sweat--including his hair soaked in what I hope is water. Gross. Averting my eyes, the most beautiful man I have ever seen stood right next to me.

His blue sapphire eyes were shadowed by thick eyelashes, a pronounced jawline carried plumb full lips, high cheekbones-- an overall flawless face. The hair he had started at the root is a honey brown, similar to mine; the top follicles where the lights shone through made a golden blonde hue. He smelled of smoke, and not the nasty smell of a campfire, yet a sweet masculine scent. His body was fit to be a model, every muscle in it’s exact definition only helping his six foot height. I had only seen thin, lanky anorexic guys that tall. For a second, after the pledge was done,  he winked at me, showing a hint of arrogance. Then I hated him, I hated his guts.

 The intended wink wasn’t for me, he passed my seat without a glance at me. Worse it was for Rebecca-witch who sat next to me, by force from Mr. Cash. A smug smile crept into Rebecca. “Aren’t you a beautiful young woman,” his voice was liquid fire and ice, a deep baritone any girl would fall for.

 Rebecca giggled like a fool, no, an idiot. “You’re not that bad looking either.” Not bad, man was Rebecca an idiot, further proving my point. In five seconds, I was going to bolt out of my seat to escape this disgusting scene that reminded me too much of my ex-boyfriend-- and that Rebecca now has him.

 “Class I’d like you to meet Dan, a new student, once he’s done flirting,” Mr. Cash looked about ready to throw his clipboard across the room at him.

 Dan averted his attention, not before whispering something in Rebecca’s ear that made her flush red. “Sorry, Mr. Cash won’t happen again,” Dan answered smugly, yeah right. Next to Mr. Cash’s clothes, Dan was like a luxurious man in all his clothes. His short sleeved shirt matched the color of his eyes, black pants that covered his--oddly enough worn out sneakers? So he wasn’t perfect.

 Mr. Cash checked his desk then turned to Dan then me. “You’ll be sitting next to Grace.” He pointed to the only empty spot on the right wing of me. “For now on you’ll be working with her, Rebecca, and Corey if he ever comes.”

 Corey was an average student, not handsome like Dan, but could be fairly called okay. He never comes to school, like ever, since I and Rebecca’s little fight about acronyms and synonyms for a project. Poor kid had to get the lead poisoning out of his system. Leaving both I and Rebecca suspended for a week. I could only imagine the arguments now.

 Rebecca clenched her hands, in the corner of my eyes, as Dan sat next to me, again he didn’t look directly at me. “Alright, our next project will be a report on a surviving civilian in the US during the apocalypse. Each group will demonstrate one civilian in detail. In great detail, since most of the world had experienced the catastrophe. The hard part is finding the individual outside of school for a quick interview. The papers will be separate; one on the adventure, most information will be on a blog they have. The other report will be the interview. Remember to Work Cite your findings.”

 Could this be any easier for me, technically I had two very heroic individuals taking care of me already. Only this means I’ll finally get answers from Dylan and Laura. Right when I was going to discuss it with my group, Mr. Cash crushed my dreams. “And you can’t use any relatives, particularly ones that we all know very well.”

 Rebecca laughed while Dan gave an odd quirk of his eyebrow. This time he was looking at me, not in a hey how’s it going, but in a menacing way. Like he wanted to kill me. Faster than I could utter a mumble he drew his attention to the class.

 For the next several minutes, Mr. Cash spouted about the immigration from the western hemisphere to the eastern hemisphere, based about the zombie invasion of course.  Miriam began her hand signals toward me, Mr. Cash ignoring us since we both did it every day and not to let his already severed reputation with the class sink any lower; he could thank Miriam for that. I tried distinguishing the signals. First was a heart, then two hands talking, including her pointing at me. Dan rose his eyebrows now curious to find out our strange way of communicating.

 Finally figuring out what Miriam was trying to say, I swung my hands in mid air like a bird telling her to stop before the very curious Dan discovers it. A strong blush spread along my cheeks when a strong husky voice whispered in my ear, “I think your friend is trying to get us together?” He laughed mocking me, Rebecca moved her head to find the commotion Dan caused.

 “Is there anything you’d like to say to the class Dan?” asked Mr. Cash having enough of the shenanigans. Also, not wanting another set of Miriam and Grace’s around.

 “Actually yes.” Oh my god, he is no not going to bring up Miriam’s psychotic behavior up. “Since Corey decided to ditch our group. I could convince him to come back to school. Problem is I don’t know where he lives.” Relaxed by Dan’s shift in conversation as did the class, I mad-eyed Miriam who only shrugged her shoulders.

 Mr. Crush was surprised, no stunned, he never had a student willing to help him. Even if it was for their own needs, sliding the conversation forward he answered, “Fine after class.” He then continued his lecture.

 “Don’t worry your secret's safe with me.” He felt so close to me it was suffocating, merely to turn myself to the sight of him finding his gaping distance. Time must be teasing me taking its sweet time until the bell rang. Jumping out of my seat least expecting his voice again, “Shyness burns the inhibitor, letting fear swell in their life. Don’t make that mistake in the future. Just stay away from me, there’s nothing for you.”

 Hurt by his words, I frowned at what he meant. A simple I don’t like you would’ve done me better. That wasn’t going to stop my plan though today. Evacuating outside with Miriam in hand before Rebecca could escape. I took out a bag full of rotten fruit from my satchel bag. In a devil of a smile, I waited by the door. “Seems like you’ve got everything.” Miriam poked the disgusting bag.

 “All I have to do is wait for a yellow ugly hand pouch.” Watching the other students cautious eyes and shaking heads we waited for a good three minutes. I was getting nervous, two minutes until my other class started, Miriam showed the same reaction. What was taking Rebecca so long it’s not like she passed me? About to lose hope I was about to turn the cheek.

 A bright yellow bag was shown, followed by a creak of the door then splash. Every single bad smelly fruit and bacteria landed on a blue shirt, fine jawline, full lips, and angry sapphire eyes that have no extensive kindness left in them. Ready to be belittled I braced myself. Alone to hear a dark laugh sinister in every way, “So that is how it’s going to be. Violet you’ve headed in deep water.”

 Confused by the name I ran faster than the speed of sound or what seemed like it. Blocking out Miriam’s calls, Rebecca’s sympathetic voice toward Dan, yet most of all Dan’s evil intentions. The way he spoke the words cursed into my brain ‘Violet you’ve headed in deep water’.

 The farther I was from him the safer I was. Each period secured my safety, no Dan. Miriam at lunch tried to console me that both me and Dan could work things out, it was a bad. I knew what my friend was doing, it was my senior year and what better way to go to prom than with the new hot guy. Not wanting to drive my friends absurd idea further, I ended the conversation stating that Dan wasn’t interested. I left the table when the bell rang, happy for the two last remaining periods.

 Right when things looked most bright, the world shattered all around me. Dan sat with a deep smile, hair charismatic as he smoothed each follicle down in a swoop of his hands. Forming a friendship with my favorite teacher, my only favorite teacher whose soul purpose is to be friends with my foster mom. Why Dan thought he could associate with her killed me. Bad enough he stolen Miriam’s approval, he’s definitely not stealing Mrs. Silver. The art teacher laughed at Dan’s sorry joke. There was no other reason to laugh. Seeing to which, Dan’s vacant of rotten food smells. Replaced by a stronger smoke scent and a workout shirt that revealed too much of his toned muscles. No sign I dumped the futile junk on him. The fact he hasn’t gotten into trouble beats me, no kid could get away wearing that. Unless you were obviously Dan.

 I took a seat, I always came to this class early to talk to Mrs. Silver. Plan of schedule ruined because of him. Whilst I sat in my seat hating that I glanced at them, Mrs. Silver motioned me over. Dan turned himself almost too fast in a blink of an eye. There’s something odd about this guy. The way he charms everybody like magic. His furious gaze boiling me like a pot, was I seriously the only one who noticed the stinging gazes at me or was I special treatment for him when no one was looking. Miriam’s words, ‘You should see the way he looks at you’, at the lunch table cut at me. No way this guy hated me. He said it himself, I didn’t imagine those sexy lips putting me down. Sexy? Where did that come from!

⚞☣⚟

 Waving her hand away. Mrs. Silver pouted, she didn’t understand how her star pupil didn’t want to greet her as usual. She directed her focus on Dan, the new student. He is rather intimidating, the first time she saw him made her think he was some kind of officer; a young one too. The rare handsome face must scare and charm the ladies. Like a lightbulb, she thought of a beautiful plan. Her adoration for Dan wouldn’t stop her from having both marvelous students. Now she could have two.

 A ring resounded in the school echoing down the halls arousing each and every student. Soon Mrs. Silver’s class was done getting settled in, her plan would begin in action, she was an art teacher for a reason. Yet, she had to first solve the conflict between the two. “Alright, class today, I’ll put you into pairs.”

 Everyone groaned, this didn’t put a dent into Mrs. Silver; her aura matching that of her yellow dress brightening up the room. Sightseeing she noticed the gaping distance between Dan and Grace. He was in front and her in the back row. Most unusual for Grace Narroway. Going through the entire list of students purposely excluding Dan and Grace for last.

⚞☣⚟

 I trembled realizing I and Dan were what was left. My teacher must have some secret grudge for me. I did ignore her today, maybe this was revenge. Mrs. Silver said the terribly chosen pair. I begrudgingly came to the seat across from Dan. Two sheets of blank paper were the only thing blocking our faces. Something I was very glad for.

 “First, this lesson will teach us what we think of one another. I want you all to draw a symbol representing your partner.” Mrs. Silver stalked the room like a cat eyeing her prey then she winked at me, confusing me. She led her way back to her wooden desk clapping her hands together so they all may begin.

 Clasping the metallic presence of a pencil I punctured the paper lightly. Every line against the paper drew my attention to what in the world I was creating. How could any symbol describe Dan? He was practically, well, him. Attacking the paper with colored pencils, I sighed.

 Art was my masterpiece, I’m a prodigy in the field. Any artist could draw a symbol for Dan. Though I couldn’t pinpoint what did describe him. He was Dan, self-absorbed Dan. He was handsome. Ignoring myself, I caught my own breath. Before me was a portrait, a replica of a knife. The hilt glimmered from a spidery design crawling up to the sharp blade point, used for probably many killings. Cloud or smoke hid the weapon thickly. I made this in thirty minutes. Fifteen minutes left in class. My amazing abilities as an artist betraying me.

 It gave fifteen minutes to watch Dan working hard on his symbol for me. Wait why would he work hard on someone he hates? He was, a thin line bruised his forehead, just when his features seem too focused his sea blue eyes stole a look at me. I froze on impulse, my mouth about to speak. Dan faced the picture toward me. Violets filled the portrait, flowers so delicate they were all extinct in this new world. And here was Dan portraying these delicate flowers a symbol for me. “What did you make?”

 The same liquid fire drove down my back and chilling my skin with frost. Ashamed at the fact of my art compared to his beautiful setting with gentle tones. Showing my drawing, expecting criticism, Dan laughed. Unlike last time, it was soft, an inward chuckle. “That’s a really good description of me.”

⚞☣⚟

 Mrs. Silver came over smiling at the two, gazing over their art they both had made. Taken back by Grace’s knife dressed in fog and Dan’s violet’s cloaked in light. “Very well done,” she tried disguising her scrutinizing voice; aimed at Grace. What did that girl think of him? Dan’s a sweet person, not a backstabber.

 If, she had more time she would talk to Grace about her drawing. Reluctantly she departed the class soon as the bell rang. The next time they’d talk.

⚞☣⚟

 I headed to the car, Dylan’s car, where I opened the door letting myself in and into a very distracted foster dad. Sweat trickled down his forehead, a frown scorched his face, something was up. I was about to ask when Dylan finally spoke, “Want to get some ice cream?”

 Shocked by Dylan’s sudden shifted in moods, I swear he’s bipolar, I quickly agreed.

 Rolling down the roads, pistachio ice cream in hand, I got the nerve to question his haste change of moods. “Dad what’s wrong? You were tense when I got into the car.” The one thing I always called him, Dad, felt like a privilege on my lips. Dylan never minded, I never knew my real father let alone call him dad.

 “Nothing kiddo. Work if anything. Do you still want to see her?” I nodded my head, it was all I had left to her anyways.

 Miriam texted me on the way there. Asking if she wanted to go to the mall tomorrow. I texted back, we’ll see as I always done in the past. Blue letters saying: Hospital spit into the car windows casting shadows down my face. I went here so often it was like a second home.

 The lobby was decorated in poinsettias -  they had finally listened to me. I have been constantly pointing out how the lobby was too dark and depressing. I sat on a black leather couch, dirt crawled from each indent in the snow white tile while the room held a stuffy medicine smell; the ones you only find in bottles full of pills. A girl wearing a blue uniform came to me in her camouflage shoes blending into the tile. “Linda B” was scripted  in bold letters on the name tag, a name I knew as well as the person. The familiar straight red hair in a sleek ponytail that appeared hooked to the glasses she had pressed down on the tip of her nose.

 “Ready to see your mom,” Linda said with a sweet tone. Holding hands the way my mother use to for me. Then it has always been that way with me and her even though we’re both the same age. Except Linda was employed and dealt with the world. I, on the other hand, have small samples of the world. I didn’t care though, Linda is a second mom to me, plus the last thing I wanted to do with my life is take care of people in any way, shape, or form. Linda is the very first real hero I have actually met. It’s not that Dylan or Laura didn’t stop the zombie war or that I didn’t believe in it. I have seen Linda save lives. Save the sick, the injured, the mentally ill. That’s the difference, a huge difference than saving me from being late to Mr. Cash--Dylan needs to work on that.

 Linda stopped at door B7 the letter and digit painted on the door. Inside was a bed and on that bed was my mother; real mother. Her pulse beat with that of the machine, heaving her chest up and down like each will be her last breath. This was Lizeth, a gentle woman gifted with a stout heart equivalent to her long hair. Freckles kissed her cheek beautifully, though her skin was pale.  I guess that happens when a person hasn’t been in the sun for three months, let alone eaten since.

 The coma began right after Lizeth had a panic attack over a mistaken zombie, who was really a doctor trying to give her a medicinal injection. That horribly went wrong, leading the doctor to overly sedate her, causing my mom to have a seizure instead of falling into a very deep sleep. It was her own fault that she was in this mess, she had gone clinically insane claiming that all humanity was doom to die. Stating she had stopped the inevitable. Now I visited her ever since, telling her about how happy I am, how life is at school, most of all how grateful I was that she is still holding on. Ten years I spent with my hysterical mom, seven, going on eight, without her.

 I sat on the one white wall chair in the room. The rest were the machinery peeping and working to maintain my mother’s health. Starting with my day I talked about the clouds that still, at this moment cease to pour water. They just lull around in the darkened, ominous sky, as a threatening figure that was always a constant reminder of the evils in the world. Regretfully, I talked about Dan, yet I wasn’t regretful in the way I should have been. Lizeth’s dry cracking lips spoke, “No.” That was all, smaller than a whisper louder than a breath.

 Blinking, I turned to see if Linda had heard too. She was not there. Stunned, I picked myself up. Was it a coincidence? “Dan.” The name was a sharp edge blade to my tongue. Nothing, I got absolutely nothing. Not a twitch, mumble, or shift of the covers. The room suddenly felt too tight, the feeling someone’s watching you through the machines. Maybe it was paranoia that was eating me. I had dumped rotten fruit on him. He has a motive to fuel a vendetta against me. The way he spoke was odd. Nobody threatened ‘you’ve headed in deep water.’

⚞☣⚟

 Blood gathered in the man’s hand like a glove. Another victim safe from hurting themselves and others. Neo’s silver lined hair blew in a draft in the ceiling, one of his chemical imbalances that proved what he was. Other than his accursed eyes that bore red like beacons on a police car. He was carefully removing the soaked red hand by a nearby broken sink, he had broken it. Why had his victim chosen to use the bathroom at the most critical moment put him in a tight spot? Luckily he had help.

 Smiling he watched his apprentice pick up the carcass smearing crimson liquid down his black army suit that fit perfectly around his muscles. The sapphire eyes of a boy had always brought Neo back to how he raised him. The kid had been infected at such a young age he doesn’t remember who brought him into this world. His parents would’ve been proud of him. “Neo are you done staring? Or would you prefer me to strip to please you?”  he sounded the same as his father, but had taken to his mother’s facial structure.

 “That won’t be necessary Dan. I’d prefer your clothes on. I was lost in thought.” Neo stretched sending trickles of water drops on his snow white hair.

 Remembering the time rain had fallen from the sky, he removed his cloak that shielded his face from others. A child much like Dan called him a vampire through the globs of rain. Dan never had to deal with that nor would Neo want him to.

 “Other than your impeccable timing and thoughts would you mind, in the tiniest warmth of your heart, assisting me?” Dan spoke spoke slowly, enunciating letter of every syllable  on purpose. His father had always had a satirical sense to him when he spoke--Dan inherited it tenfold. Even Cold glaciers have beauty in them, fire a strong warmth, wind a soothing whisper, and earth a place to call home. Somewhere deep inside Dan was a gentle soul. Even if he never showed it.

 “Alright,” Neo opened the disgusting bathroom door sending in a rush of smells: liquor, food, vomit, and now death. “You evacuated this place nicely.”

 Dan didn’t say anything, he had a difficult time getting the men out, a lot of them picked fights, while the s***s wouldn’t stop trying to get into his pants. Forfeiting, he decided to pull the fire alarm causing everyone to leave. It would be a matter of time before they all came back. That explained why he was in a snappy mood to move and escape.

 Dodging over trash on the floor Neo and Dan made their way across the old bar not saying a word to each other. The back door they stumbled upon opened up to a steel balcony. Below, a cushion of hedges lined the buildings wall and an alleyway to the mainstream that no one was on. Noise did occupy it, sending eerie echoes. They both fell down feet first into the bushes, Dan untangled himself from the thick plant.

 “Can I have some fun with a girl?” asked Dan dumping the body in a green-gray dumpster. Darkness hid Neo’s features, the moon yet not casting it’s light making it impossible to decipher Neo’s intake. This could soften Dan, but not to be hasty in agreeing he answered rudely, so Dan wouldn’t question.

 “You can practically hump her in the middle of class if it suits you. Don’t lose your target though in the process.” Neo inquired heading out of the alley.

 Dan’s smile outlined the moon’s light, both soft and sharp. Sweet and sour.