Save Me (9 page)

I took a look around the house, taking my time to allow myself a chance to get lost in all the memories made here. Every room, every piece of furniture, everything, held memories of happier times with my family. Strangely, I had never allowed myself to go through the house like this before. I thought the memories it brought back would be difficult, sad. It was exactly the opposite though. Walking into the kitchen, I swore I could smell my mother's cooking. If I closed my eyes, I could even see her standing there, her hair pulled up into a messy bun, the way she always put it when she cooked. Every Sunday since I was old enough to remember, I spent the morning out with Dad alone. Instead of taking the free time to herself and relaxing or doing something just for her, Mom would cook. She would make a big lunch and special treats for Dad and me, enough for the whole week. She would always hide some things so she could set them out before she went to bed at night so we would find them in the morning. It was her way of doing something special for us even on days she knew there wouldn't be time to make something.

After I finished exploring the downstairs I headed up the stairs for the first time since I packed my stuff and moved down to our new basement home. The fifth step up still creaked the same, bringing a small smile to my face. On the wall along the stairs hung photos of me from birth to seventeen. There was space at the top for what would have held the photo when I turned eighteen that would never be hung. Not that it really mattered much to me, but it would have mattered a lot to Mom. Even in our basement home, she took photos. She had a stash of memory cards down there holding all the memories we made with our new family down there. Sometimes I would still take photos with the camera she got me for my birthday a few years ago because it made me feel closer to her. Sadly, nearly everyone in my photos was now dead.

At the top of the stairs, I made my way into my parent's room. The bed was stripped and half off the frame. The curtain from one window was missing and a dresser was pulled away from the wall. I didn't know if Mom and Dad had left it that way or if someone else had been in there. Knowing Mom and her meticulous housekeeping, the latter seemed more likely. The wooden rocking chair Dad had made for Mom when she was pregnant with me sat in the corner. I tried not to dwell on memories too much in here. It just made me miss them more. I pushed the bed over a few feet and flipped back the rug to reveal the floor safe Dad had installed, even though Mom insisted it was a little crazy. A part of me was nervous, wondering if someone had found the safe and emptied its contents. Luckily, Dad had insisted that I memorize the combination. It did take me three tries to get it, but I blame that on this damn concussion. The safe contained a box mom kept her jewelry in, some papers for the house, and a plastic bag with some flash drives in it. I left the papers and took the rest, then headed for my old bedroom.

Being inside my old room again brought back memories of a happier time. A time that didn't include fighting for my life or losing everyone I cared about. I wish I realized back then how precious that time was and spent more time enjoying those around me. Around my mirror, a shrine of photos bordered the frame with happier times. Photos of Amy, June, even Zach, sat smiling at me, forever happy, trapped in that moment. Part of me wanted to take the photos with me, but I couldn't bring myself to disturb anything so dear to my old life. The reflection staring back at me between the photo shrine seemed alien. The bruised and puffy face looked aged, not like the nearly 19 year old that it should. Behind me sat my old bed, stripped of its bedding but still the same as I left it. It doesn't look like anyone had touched anything in my room since I left it. Not that anything of value was left behind, just typical teenage possessions. I took everything of real value with me that first day.

In a storage container in my closet, I found the old quilt Grandma had made me when I was seven. Smiling princesses danced around their prince charmings along the pink fabric. Grandma had died a few months before the outbreak. When she died, I thought it was the saddest thing that could ever happen to me. I could never have imagined just how wrong I was. Under the blanket was my old journal. The worn leather cover softened from use, left me smiling. I spent so many nights laying on my bed writing of teenage fantasies, crushes and unrequited puppy love, and wounded hearts that I never thought would heal. Those things that held so much importance once, seemed like a lifetime ago. It almost felt like those things happened to someone else.

With the quilt wrapped around me, I took the journal and settled on the bed to reminisce. The handwriting, so full of life and hope, danced over the pages with dramatic flair. Photos and doodles accompanied the writing in typical teenage fashion. I almost couldn't believe the happy and carefree girl in these pages could be the same one who had looked back at me in the mirror earlier.

I lost track of time in the memories of my old life. After a while, the throbbing in my head returned along with the sleepiness. I wanted to get back downstairs before Will woke up and make us some dinner. He had been taking care of me the last couple of days so it was only fair that I do something to help out. Getting up off the bed brought with it a wave of dizziness that nearly knocked me over. Maybe going back right now wasn't the best idea. I sat back up on the bed to wait for the dizziness to pass.

Mom's jewelry box caught my attention from where I set it down on the dresser. Fighting the dizziness, I brought it back to the bed to inspect its contents. The hard-carved box, passed down through the generations of Mom's family, held jewelry, trinkets, and other items Mom saved through the years. She showed it to me when I was about eight, promising one day it would be mine. My younger self couldn't wait for the day, but now faced with the box, my enthusiasm disappeared. I took a deep breath and slowly flipped open the hinged lid. Inside I found Mom's engagement ring, the charm bracelet she wore until we moved to the basement, some cheap costume jewelry I gave her over the years and a few other mementos of my mother's life. I slipped the bracelet onto my arm, examining the charms that dangled around my hand. There was an oval with an infinity symbol that Dad gave her. He said that's how long he would love her. When he signed cards or letters to her, he always used the infinity symbol. The next charm was a mother with her arms wrapped around her child, followed by a heart and a camera. There used to be a maple leaf from their trip to Canada for their tenth anniversary but it fell off and was now in the box by itself. At the bottom of the box sat a letter with my name on the front in Mom's handwriting. I pulled the letter out and began reading.

My Dearest Andi,

If you are reading this, it is probably because I'm gone. I'm so sorry I had to leave you. I hope you know that I never wanted to. I've watched you grow from a tiny premature baby to a sweet little girl and into a beautiful young woman. There was never a time you didn't make me proud. I'm sorry I will miss so much of your life. I hope you will always feel me in your heart because part of me will always be with you. I know the world is no longer the place it was and you will have many difficult times ahead of you but I know you can handle whatever comes your way. You were always so strong, just like your father. I believe in my heart that someday the world will get better and you can have the life you deserve. Promise me that no matter what, you will accept that life and know that it's okay to leave the past behind and be happy. There are so many things I'd like to leave you with but Dad is yelling at me to hurry, so this will have to do.

I love you so much my darling.

Love Mom.

The letter was dated the day we moved into the basement. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I refolded the letter and returned it to the box. It was the first time I had allowed myself to cry in a very long time. My head throbbed harder as the tears continued to fall. It felt like I would never be able to stop. I pressed my face into the quilt and sobbed hard. I was resolved to stay there like that forever until I felt arms around me tugging the quilt from my arms.

~Chapter Eight~

I held tightly on to the quilt, my only shield from the intruder in my bedroom. I should have known better than to come up here on my own unprotected. Strong hands pulled at me, trying to release the blanket from my grip. My fingers dug into the soft material, refusing to let go. A quilt wasn't going to provide me with much protection, but there was no way I was letting go.

"Andi!"

"Will?" I loosened the quilt and peered out from under to see Will sitting on the bed beside me. His face was pale white as he scanned over me for injuries, pulling the quilt back.

"Are you alright?" His voice bordered on panic.

"Yes." I wiped left over tears from my face. "What are you doing up here?"

"Me? What are you doing up here? Alone?" Will's cheeks flushed red with anger. I had never seen Will angry before and I certainly didn't expect to be the cause when it did surface.

"I, I came up for something." My voice caught in my throat from my sobbing.

"You have got to be kidding me Andi." Will got up from the bed and paced across the room. He started to speak several times but stopped, refusing to look in my direction. He ran his hands through his hair, grabbing onto the ends, tugging frustrated.

"Will?"

"Do you have any idea what you've put me through? Again!" Finally he looked at me, furious.

"You were asleep and I wanted to get something. I was going to get back before you woke up but then I wasn't feeling well and," Will cut me off, raising a hand to stop me mid-sentence. I didn't know what the big deal was. I know it would have been a better idea to wait until he got up and came for the box together, but I was expecting to just get it and go back. It's not like I can't take care of myself. I've been doing it for a long time now.

"You have no idea what I went through to get you back from those monsters." He took a deep breath and continued a bit calmer, but still angry. "And when I find you," Will looked away and paused before continuing. "I can't even talk about this with you right now. Let's just go back downstairs."

"Will, I.."

"Now Andi," he ordered and walked from the room ending any discussion.

With anyone else, at any other time, I would have argued and held my ground on principal alone. This wasn't just anyone though. This was Will. Will, who was normally sweet and gentle but was now angrier with me than anyone has ever been in my life. I wasn't about to argue with him right now while he was in this state.

I gathered the box of my mother's things, my old journal, and the princess quilt and slowly stood, finding my balance.

"Let's go," he said, standing in the doorway, completely out of patience.

We were going to have to have a talk about all this bossiness though. Normally, I would have told someone treating me like this to screw off. My parents were gone, forever. I didn't need a new one. Something about Will was different though. I couldn't bring myself to shut him out after what we had been through together these last few days. Especially not after the way he looked at me after pulling the quilt from my face. He looked scared, terrified maybe, that something else had happened to me.

Will stood at the top of the stairs waiting for me. Glancing down those thirteen steps, with my head throbbing and spinning, made the nausea return. I tried to steady myself.

"I can't." I pleaded, holding on to the rail for support. Will closed his eyes for a long moment. Then without a word, he scooped me into his arms and carried me down to the basement, depositing me onto the sofa in the living room, without so much as a glance at me.

In the kitchen, Will began putting together some dinner. I heard cans opening and the sound of the small propane gas stove ignite. He didn't speak a word to me since we left upstairs. I planned to make us both dinner earlier. I thought I could have it done when he woke up as a thank you for all he had done for me these last few days. But again, things just don't work out. He was pushing this a little too far though. I mean, all I did was go upstairs. It really wasn't that big of a deal. It's not like I went for a jog around the neighborhood. This is my house after all. Plus I would have made it back long before he woke up if I didn't get so damn dizzy again. I couldn't be held responsible for a concussion. The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became.

Will brought two bowls over to the sofa, setting them down on the coffee table.

"You need to eat." He said flatly, handing me a fork and sitting down on the opposite side of the sofa from me. God, he was being childish.

"Look Will," I started, unsure of what I actually planned to say. "I'm sorry I worried you but, I can take care of myself. You don't have to treat me like a little kid." I looked over at Will, fully expecting that pink flush of anger to spread across his cheeks. He started at me blankly, proving yet again that I did not understand this boy one bit. "I only went upstairs alone because you obviously needed to sleep and I was just going to get something quick. I was feeling really dizzy after I got up there, so I was trying to wait it out." His expression hadn't budged so I continued. "You can't be mad at me for that. You need to stop bossing me around and treating me like a glass doll." I waited for him to say something but he just stared at me, unwavering. "Will? Say something!"

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you finished?"

"Yes." I had wanted him to respond, but now I wasn't so sure.