You were mad. And frustrated, completely frustrated. It had always been you, Brenda and Jorge against the cranks. You loved the girl, and you were starting to believe she loved you too by the way she looked at you. Your heart belonged to her even in the amidst of the chaos of the apocalypse. Now you three were infected, the infection slowly taking over your bodies. It was a slow process, you still had a few months of life, and you were happy spending it with her. It seemed as if everyday you two became closer and closer.. until he came along.

You had taken Thomas along in your small group when you found him on the verge of dying —and now you quite wished you’d left him to die— and now it felt like your heart had been torn into little pieces and thrown to a fire. You hated Thomas. It felt as if Thomas had taken Brenda away from you. Brenda didn’t hold your hand when it was dark anymore, she held Thomas’. She didn’t hug you anymore when she was scared, she hugged Thomas. She didn’t look at you with those eyes of her anymore, she looked at Thomas. You thought you could spend your last months of awareness before the infection took over you —and eventually turned you into a mindless zombie— with Brenda, you thought maybe something could bloom between the two of you, but now that Thomas was there it was imposible, It was obvious Brenda was utterly in love with him —not you—.

One night, when you just couldn’t take it anymore you ended up getting out of the bed and walked over the room at the other side of the old house you were using as a shelter where you knew Jorge he had been kind of an uncle-figure to both Brenda and you—. You knocked on the door and he encouraged you to walk in.

“hey there-” his usual smile got wiped out of his face when he saw the state you were in. Jaw clenched, tears running down your cheeks like a river, lip quivering and shaky hands balled into fists at your sides “oh fuck- what- what’s going on, kiddo?” he asked you in a worried way.