Chapter 4: Chapter Three

Once we went our separate ways, I decided to come to this rooftop and sleep. Why the rooftop? It’s like he’s just ignored my yelling fit, maybe it's better he did. Peace, I guess? So quiet up here, it always is. Not to mention I’m not constantly worried about someone breaking in and killing me in my sleep, who would think to check the rooftop? After waking up, I peered over the edge and saw three people sprint into the building with a horde behind them.

“Shit!” Neglecting whatever I had left behind, I left in a hurry. My first impressions of these people weren’t amazing considering they had just brought a horde out the front of our tower, but I helped. If I hadn’t, the building was probably getting overrun and we weren’t surviving. We were too high up to jump out a window.

“Yo who ‘da fuck is ‘is?” He seemed upset to see me, or rather angry, unsure even.

“Shut up. Glasses! Get that crowbar and all of you need to follow me to the roof!” They just kind of looked at me for a few seconds before realising I lived here and they should listen to me. This horde was slow, making it to the roof wasn’t hard. A loud slam echoed down the building as the door to the top swung shut.

“Hold it! And give me that crowbar!”

“How ‘da fuck I know to trust yuh?”

“Give me the fucking crowbar or I’ll send you over the edge!” Learned that from Yvonne I imagine? Being intimidating isn’t difficult, even as a smaller woman. Once I eventually got the crowbar off him, I ran to the lone cupboard on the other side of the rooftop and used the crowbar to wrench it open. Obviously I grabbed the most reliable gun for myself ‘cause I didn’t know these people yet. Just got the one I knew for certain wouldn’t jam on me.

“Here! Get over here and take one each!” The relief on their faces almost made me chuckle a little. I was now their saviour, someone who could protect them. Weirdly enough, with a wave running up the stairs and surrounded by strangers, I felt in control for the first time in my life; the first time since this began. Danger incoming, banging on the door. What I didn’t tell you is I had grabbed a hand grenade from the room I found the group in. The ding of the pin being pulled shook everyone with uncertainty, unfortunately I couldn’t open the door ‘cause we would’ve been swarmed and most likely killed, so I threw the grenade at the bottom of it and told everyone to run. That feeling of control grew when all of them listened. I mean they would’ve been stupid to disobey that suggestion but you get the point. As the rubble settled, silence filled the rooftop and the banging on the door stopped; not that there was a door by this point. Were you always this creative? Able to think on your feet? Living in this shithole has taught me some things. Taught is the wrong word, ‘beaten into me’ is more fitting. I can only imagine. With the entrance gone, all that remained was a flight of stairs cut off from the top, covered in muck. Dark maroon blood lined across the floor and walls with chunky pulp spread throughout. A crime scene gruesome enough to make even the most heartless killer spew his lunch. It must’ve made someone in the group sick ‘cause all of them were heaving behind me.

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“Yo what ‘da fuck!”

“Crazy bitch!” I’m sure the third person wanted to say something, too bad they were still throwing up.

“Sorry for saving you guys, I guess?” I was proud of myself and I let it show.

“Why’d you give us guns!?” The girl questioned.

“Backup, in case the grenade didn’t work.”

“And how long you had it before you decided to use it?” The questions were starting to annoy me, I just wanted to sleep. Maybe smoke a little before. Ashley.

“I grabbed it when I found you guys, there was one on the floor you got stuck on.”

“Then why’d you lead us up here and not just use it there?”

“Yeah, what’s up wit’ ‘dat?”

“Can you guys shut the fuck up? I saved you didn’t I? Now either stay up here with me for the night and we can clean it up together in the morning, or you can leave now and walk through the blood stew over there.” By this point the other girl had stopped throwing up, wiped her mouth, and looked at me with defeat in her eyes.

“You got a cigarette?” She asked quietly.

“This is my typa girl.” I made eye contact with the other two simultaneously, rubbing in the fact they couldn’t leave without struggle. Now as much as I was proud of myself and feeling all high and mighty, it was so quiet for most of the night and a little uncomfortable. I don’t blame you for feeling uncomfortable, these people were just randoms you’d met not ten minutes before you were on a rooftop trying to sleep with them. Even so, I wish we were nicer to each other in the beginning, myself included. At this point I was grieving your death silently, I masked myself by trying to be ‘badass’ or overly sarcastic. Although this faded quickly as I began to really like these people. I hid your death from them in order to keep them from treating me differently. They only really knew you exist, not who you were to me. I understand, Ashley.