Chapter 1:
Marilyn:
I settled into the front seat of the bus, taking my place beside Jermaine, my longtime crush. Every word he uttered brought a cascade of laughter and giggles from me. The leather of the seat clung lightly to my thighs, the fabric of my miniskirt emphasizing my cheer uniform. Jermaine and I embodied the cheerleader and jock trope, a pairing that seemed predestined. As Jermaine rose to exchange banter with his friends further back in the buss, I turned to glance behind, only to have my smile fade at the sight of Eliza, my childhood friend, casting a covetous gaze at Jermaine. Our eyes met briefly, her expression faltering before retreating to the safety of the floor. why was she looking at my Jermaine? and with such a look in her eyes? I had wondered to myself.
Eliza:
I found my place in the back of the bus, among the misfits and outcasts. Next to me sat a peculiar boy who occasionally shot furtive glances in my direction, punctuating his observations with odd giggles and snorts. My attention shifted forward, where the familiar sight of a tousled brunette head caught my eye - Jermaine, the object of my affection. Yet, as I reveled in the momentary thrill, I noticed Lyn, my childhood companion, casting a forlorn gaze in my direction. I averted my eyes, resigned to the inevitable truth: Jermaine would inevitably choose Lyn. With her flawless blonde locks and cheery disposition, she epitomized the archetype of the perfect cheerleader, a fitting match for a handsome jock such as Jermaine. I looked back up at Lyn, gorgeous in every way, smiling and giggling at my favorite jock. Sometimes I wish we hadn't grown apart.
Marilyn
As the bus doors groaned open, the acrid scent of exhaust infiltrated my senses, signaling our arrival at the venue where our school would face off against the powerhouse teams from the bustling cities. Our mission was clear: victory was imperative to restore the dwindling reputation of our small, overlooked town. Eagerly, I disembarked first, with Jermaine close behind. Stepping onto the sidewalk, his arm found its way around my shoulders, a gesture both comforting and electrifying. "Will you be cheering for me, Mary?" His inquiry elicited a playful snarl from me as I struggled to contain the fluttering butterflies in my stomach. "Perhaps, if you learn to humble yourself," I teased in response. As our classmates filed out of the bus, we moved as a unified force around the school to the feild, anticipation coursing through our veins. Amidst the excitement, my thoughts drifted momentarily to Eliza. Memories of my father's warnings resurfaced, reminding me of the perceived path she was on. With a pang of guilt, I entertained the notion of leaving her behind, but the bond of our shared past tugged at my conscience, leaving me torn between loyalty and self-preservation. I should just forget her.
Eliza:
I lingered as the last one to disembark from the bus, a blend of courtesy and the gentle push of the crowd behind me guiding my steps. Not that it mattered, I reasoned with a shrug. Ahead, amidst the throng of students, Jermaine stood, his arm draped casually around Lyn. A pang of jealousy and guilt stirred within me, a predictable but still unsettling realization. I had always suspected he would choose her, yet the reality stung nonetheless. A simmering undercurrent of indirect anger swirled beneath the surface of my thoughts. As we navigated around the building towards the field, I found a seat in the bleachers, my gaze alternating between the players preparing below, particularly Jermaine, partially Lyn as she stretched nearby. What had caused her change of heart towards me? I wondered silently, momentarily lost in contemplation before refocusing on Jermaine with a shake of my head.
Marilyn:
Bent over, fingertips brushing the artificial blades of grass on the football field, I stretched, feeling the pressure against my thighs. My gaze flitted towards Jermaine intermittently; there was something captivating about him in action, even if it was the messy, imperfect moments that endeared him to me the most. Across the field, Eliza occupied my thoughts inexplicably, and when I dared to glance her way, I found her already fixated on me. Hastily, I averted my eyes, feigning disinterest. The shrill blast of a whistle pierced the air, snapping me out of my reverie, signaling the imminent start of the game.
Eliza:
In a fleeting instant, our gazes intersected—or at least, I thought they did. Before I could fully register the connection, Lynn had already averted her eyes. Studying her in her cheer uniform, I noted the intricacies: the long sleeves with thumbholes, the tiny skirt, all in a vivid shade of pink. Our school's initials adorned the front of her shirt, while her name was proudly emblazoned on the back. As my thoughts meandered, a sudden blast of a whistle shattered the moment, snapping my attention forward, signaling the imminent commencement of the game.
Chapter 2
Marilyn:
Amidst the reverberating echoes of excitement and thunderous applause from the nosebleed seats, I observe Jermaine poised to execute the kickoff, his presence commanding the field. Memories flood back of countless nights spent huddled under covers, meticulously studying every position and rule, driven by the desire to impress him. Alongside my fellow cheerleaders, we launch into our meticulously rehearsed routine, but my gaze remains fixed on Jermaine throughout, only to discover him returning a smile from the bleachers above. Following his line of sight, I spy Eliza. Why was my Jermaine smiling at her?
Eliza
As the game commenced, the crowd in front of me surged to their feet, obscuring my view. Amidst the sea of bodies, I caught a glimpse of Jermaine, strategically positioned between the towering figures obstructing my sightline. Determined not to miss a moment, I rose from my seat, balancing precariously to cheer for him above the heads of those in front of me. In that fleeting moment, I blinked, and when my eyes reopened, there he was, his smile illuminating— towards me— our eyes locked, causing a flurry of warmth to stir within me. With unwavering focus, he directed his attention back to the game, executing a flawless kick that sailed effortlessly between the goalposts, signaling a triumphant score.
Marilyn:
As Jermaine initiated the game with his impeccable kick, my attention was abruptly diverted by a sudden rush of people flooding onto the field. Caught off guard and bewildered, I momentarily halted my cheer routine, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene unfolding before me. The advancing mob showed no signs of halting, their frenzy escalating as they closed in on both players and spectators alike. Horror swept over me as I witnessed the violence erupting, the assailants ruthlessly attacking anyone in their path. what is going on?!! I exclaimed internally, my mind racing to comprehend the surreal nightmare unfolding. As Jermaine fell victim to the onslaught, I watched in disbelief as one of the attackers sank their teeth into him. The realization struck me like a bolt of lightning – this was no ordinary chaos, but the onset of a nightmarish zombie apocalypse. In a desperate bid to save Jermaine and myself, I leaped into action, trying to pull Jermaine away. Just then he started claw at my uniform and my face. Despite my efforts to fend off the relentless assault, my uniform was torn, the fabric bearing witness to the brutality of the encounter. "Stop!" I screamed in terror, the panic in my voice echoing across the chaos. It was then that Eliza emerged as my unexpected savior, bravely intervening to pry Jermaine away from me. With her help, I scrambled to my feet, my gaze lingering on Jermaine, now transformed into a monstrous incarnation of his former self. Mascara streaked by tears of disbelief, I stood frozen in shock as Eliza guided me away from the harrowing scene. I heard Eliza talking to me but none of it made it through to me.In that moment, I realized the depth of her sacrifice – a selfless act of heroism that defied comprehension. Grateful for her intervention, I couldn't help but ponder my dad's words, how could someone willing to risk their life for another go to hell?
Eliza:
After Jermaine's kickoff, the team erupted into a small celebration, their cheers drowned out by the roar of the crowd. But suddenly, the joyous atmosphere was shattered as a horde of people flooded onto the field, moving with an unnatural, almost inhuman speed.
Amidst the chaos, I caught sight of Lyn, her expression a mix of confusion and fear as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. As I scanned the scene, my heart pounded in my chest, and my eyes widened in horror at the sight before me.
The once-cheering crowd had turned into a mass of writhing bodies, clawing and biting at each other with savage intensity. It was like a scene from a nightmare, as if the stadium had been overrun by a horde of zombies.
My gaze snapped back to Lyn as she rushed towards the violence, her determination evident even amidst the panic. Frantically, I stumbled down the bleachers, desperate to reach her before it was too late.
But my efforts were in vain. By the time I reached the field, Lyn was already at Jermaine's side, who had been freshly bitten. With horror, I watched as Jermaine attempted to attack her, his movements jerky and unnatural.
Without hesitation, I pushed myself to my feet and lunged towards them, my instincts kicking in. With a swift kick, I knocked Jermaine away from Lyn, the impact jolting through my body. But in that moment, all that mattered was keeping her safe from the spreading madness."Lyn! Come on we have to get to safety!" I scream at her but she seems frozen in shock— she can't make out my words, so I began pulling her away.
Marilyn:
As Eliza pulled me away it reminded me of something I had convinced myself to forget. I can still vividly recall that old house, its walls echoing with the whispers of memories long gone. My father, a stern figure as the local priest, and my mother, a gentle housewife, filled its halls with their presence. And then there was Eliza, a constant presence in our home, her laughter intertwining with mine as we played together in blissful innocence. She was more than a friend; she was my soulmate in childhood adventures.
But the memory that haunts me is of that fateful day when everything changed. My father, his usually calm demeanor shattered, burst into my room while Eliza and I were lost in our imaginary world. With a firm grip on my arm, he dragged me away, leading me through unfamiliar corridors until we reached a room bathed in the dim glow of a solitary candle.
Blindfolded, my tears soaking the fabric, I felt him push my head into a bucket of water and held it there till my head went fuzzy. He pulled my head up by my hair. I could sense the weight of impending darkness as my father administered a drink, its bitter taste burning down my throat. And then, oblivion.
When consciousness returned, I found myself alone in that dimly lit chamber. Time seemed to have lost all meaning as I groped through the shadows, my heart heavy with a hollowness I couldn't comprehend. Desperate fingers clawed at the locked door, but it remained steadfast, trapping me within its confines.
As silent sobs wracked my body, I realized with a numbness that cut deeper than any physical pain, that even my tears had abandoned me, leaving only the dry husk of my shattered innocence behind. I felt Eliza move hair out of my view before I looked up at her snapping out of it.
"Thank you," Was all I managed to get out after Eliza legit saved my life. Eliza's gaze met mine, her eyes alight with a warmth that seemed to penetrate the darkest corners of my soul. Her smile, like a gentle ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds, washed over me, offering solace in a world tainted by my own shortcomings.
In that fleeting moment, I felt unworthy of such kindness, as if I were a shadow standing in the glow of her radiance. Her smile held depths of compassion and understanding that I could scarcely fathom, a testament to the purity of her heart and the strength of her character.
But as she looked at me, her expression unwavering in its sincerity, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stir within me. For in her eyes, I glimpsed the possibility of redemption.
Eliza:
As I pulled Lyn away from the chaos, my heart racing with adrenaline, we dashed through the labyrinth of city streets until we found ourselves in a dimly lit alleyway nestled within the bustling downtown. Despite the pandemonium we had just escaped, the world around us continued to buzz with the rhythm of everyday life, oblivious to the nightmare that had unfolded.
With trembling hands, I reached out and cupped Lyn's face, my fingers trembling as they brushed against her skin. For a moment, she remained still, her eyes glazed with shock and confusion. And then, with a shuddering breath, she finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper in the cacophony of the city.
"Thank you," she murmured, her words carrying a weight of gratitude and exhaustion. I watched as her features softened, the lines of tension easing from her brow as she met my gaze with an expression of profound relief.
Unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions raging within me, I swallowed hard against the dryness in my throat. With a shaky breath, I mustered a faint smile, the corners of my lips lifting in response to her gratitude.
"You're welcome," I replied, my voice hoarse with emotion. And in that moment, amidst the chaos of the world around us, there was a sense of quiet understanding, a bond forged in the crucible of adversity that bound us together as we faced an uncertain future.