the bed and ushered me over to it, almost seeming kind. Almost.
“I guess I’ll deal with you tomorrow. Try not to make a mess of things too much while I’m gone,” he said.
I opened my mouth to throw some witty insult back at him, but found that my entire body felt as if it were shutting down involuntarily. It was the same sensation I got when a doctor put me under and I tried as hard as I could to stay awake. It was a losing battle to say the least.
My eyes became fuzzy and my lids heavy as I tried to ask Hayden one last question that never came out. I had to know if I’d be safe in the cabin after he left. Instead, I gave in to the overwhelming urge to let sleep take me as I watched my Guide disappear through the front door, leaving it unlocked behind him.
Chapter 7
I woke the next morning feeling sore, achy, and warm. The ‘sore and achy’ I’d expected. I wasn’t out of shape because of Monica’s mandatory-apartment-weekly-yoga she’d instated, but I didn’t work out every day, so running for my life from a zombie hadn’t really been something I’d trained for.
I could feel the sun beating down on my closed lids, which surprised me to no end, since the last time I’d been awake it was foggy and snowy. Apparently weather was very unpredictable in purgatory. I’d have to make a note of that somewhere in my ‘What I Did on my Purgatory Vacation’ essay I presented to the class. This nonexistent essay would probably consist of three things: unpredictable weather, stupid challenges that seemed completely irrelevant, and rude, but highly attractive British men.
Really, if Hayden wasn’t so completely unpleasant, my stay in purgatory wouldn’t be all that bad. But no. Mr. ‘Bad Boy’ had to have an attitude.
Opening my eyes wearily, I glanced around the room, surprised that I’d been so anxious to hop into the completely d isgusting bed I was currently lying on. The sheets were dusty, the mattress reeked of mold, and the entire bed frame was covered in spider webs. The only explanation I could come up with for my desire to sleep somewhere so horrible, was the fact that the snow made me sleep…somehow…because that made all the sense in the world.
Logic told me that I probably needed to eat something for breakfast, but as I stood and walked around the dusty cabin room, I didn’t feel hungry at all. It was probably just as well since it didn’t look like the room contained any food that hadn’ t expired over 100 years ago anyway.
I heaved a heavy sigh, very pointedly ignoring the homesick feeling that was beginning to spread at the thought of my family and what they might be doing today.
Would they be picking out a coffin? Or was it too soon for that? How long did people generally wait until they buried someone anyway?
I shivered at the thought that my body might be lying in a morgue somewhere surrounded by other dead bodies. Everything sterile, cold, and metal. Absolutely no warmth or life. And to top it all off I absolutely hated the smell of formaldehyde, which would undoubtedly be a permanent fixture in the morgue.
Those were the thoughts I needed to keep at bay. Maybe when all of these tasks were done, I’d let myself think about my family, or all of the things I wanted to do before I’d died. But for now, I was going to focus on the task at hand and just try to survive through the cycles and Hayden’s attitude. Though I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“I hope Monica remembered to feed Ron Swanson,” I thought aloud, my nonexistent hunger reminding me that Monica might forget her responsibilities in light of her roommate/best friend dying.
Our Scottish Fold looked grumpy enough when he had enough to eat. I couldn’t imagine what his smushed up little face would look like if he wasn’t being fed.
Killing time until my unwilling Guide showed up , I examined the cabin more closely, feeling like it looked more like a haunted house than anything. I wasn’t too keen to
“I guess I’ll deal with you tomorrow. Try not to make a mess of things too much while I’m gone,” he said.
I opened my mouth to throw some witty insult back at him, but found that my entire body felt as if it were shutting down involuntarily. It was the same sensation I got when a doctor put me under and I tried as hard as I could to stay awake. It was a losing battle to say the least.
My eyes became fuzzy and my lids heavy as I tried to ask Hayden one last question that never came out. I had to know if I’d be safe in the cabin after he left. Instead, I gave in to the overwhelming urge to let sleep take me as I watched my Guide disappear through the front door, leaving it unlocked behind him.
Chapter 7
I woke the next morning feeling sore, achy, and warm. The ‘sore and achy’ I’d expected. I wasn’t out of shape because of Monica’s mandatory-apartment-weekly-yoga she’d instated, but I didn’t work out every day, so running for my life from a zombie hadn’t really been something I’d trained for.
I could feel the sun beating down on my closed lids, which surprised me to no end, since the last time I’d been awake it was foggy and snowy. Apparently weather was very unpredictable in purgatory. I’d have to make a note of that somewhere in my ‘What I Did on my Purgatory Vacation’ essay I presented to the class. This nonexistent essay would probably consist of three things: unpredictable weather, stupid challenges that seemed completely irrelevant, and rude, but highly attractive British men.
Really, if Hayden wasn’t so completely unpleasant, my stay in purgatory wouldn’t be all that bad. But no. Mr. ‘Bad Boy’ had to have an attitude.
Opening my eyes wearily, I glanced around the room, surprised that I’d been so anxious to hop into the completely d isgusting bed I was currently lying on. The sheets were dusty, the mattress reeked of mold, and the entire bed frame was covered in spider webs. The only explanation I could come up with for my desire to sleep somewhere so horrible, was the fact that the snow made me sleep…somehow…because that made all the sense in the world.
Logic told me that I probably needed to eat something for breakfast, but as I stood and walked around the dusty cabin room, I didn’t feel hungry at all. It was probably just as well since it didn’t look like the room contained any food that hadn’ t expired over 100 years ago anyway.
I heaved a heavy sigh, very pointedly ignoring the homesick feeling that was beginning to spread at the thought of my family and what they might be doing today.
Would they be picking out a coffin? Or was it too soon for that? How long did people generally wait until they buried someone anyway?
I shivered at the thought that my body might be lying in a morgue somewhere surrounded by other dead bodies. Everything sterile, cold, and metal. Absolutely no warmth or life. And to top it all off I absolutely hated the smell of formaldehyde, which would undoubtedly be a permanent fixture in the morgue.
Those were the thoughts I needed to keep at bay. Maybe when all of these tasks were done, I’d let myself think about my family, or all of the things I wanted to do before I’d died. But for now, I was going to focus on the task at hand and just try to survive through the cycles and Hayden’s attitude. Though I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“I hope Monica remembered to feed Ron Swanson,” I thought aloud, my nonexistent hunger reminding me that Monica might forget her responsibilities in light of her roommate/best friend dying.
Our Scottish Fold looked grumpy enough when he had enough to eat. I couldn’t imagine what his smushed up little face would look like if he wasn’t being fed.
Killing time until my unwilling Guide showed up , I examined the cabin more closely, feeling like it looked more like a haunted house than anything. I wasn’t too keen to
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