Left outside alone.

Dana's mother got sick and left her alone in a world with guns, cannibals and crazy people. She was 10 years then, now she's 18 . She doesn't trust anyone and has no problem killing. She's not scared and quite strong, but will she survive alone? or will she have to get along and make a group with what she hates the most (people) to stay alive?


14. Forever in rage.

“Everyone, this is Dana” he said and led me closer to the others. I looked around, my eyes stopped at Steven who was already looking at me. His eyes found the floor fast with a slight frown when we made eye contact. Why was he doing that; looking away every time I looked at him? I had these daggers I wanted to look at him and I knew he probably had some for me too, but anyway he was avoiding them.

“You’ve already met Steven and Irene, and this is Jimmy and Scooter” he said and pointed at the two guys who looked peering at me, they reminded me fast of Alan. Jimmy and Scooter? I’ve heard those names before…The guys who found me…The guys who hit me…My eyes fell emotionless on them, Scooter must’ve been in the twenties and Jimmy looked quite younger than me, maybe 16, both with dark blond hair.

Eric left the room and I just looked at the others, feeling like the first day of school. Irene was knitting, Steven played with his knife, and Jimmy n’ Scooter were walking towards me. I eyed them down like a hawk; they shouldn’t near me right now, I was already a bit furious about the whole situation I was in.

“Hey, Apple pie. How ya’ doing?” Scooter asked and he wanted to shake my hand, but I just looked questioning at it with my arms crossed.  There were no way I was going to shake anybody’s hand in this place. I don’t know how many people, innocent people, those hands have killed.

“Are you the bastards who attacked me?” I asked looking seriously, with my lips drawn into a thin line. Being nice wasn’t me, certainly not towards them. Strangers. Guilt twisted Jimmy’s features and his face dropped as I scanned them both for an answer, but Scooter just shrugged, nodded and smirked. Was it pride? Or just simple carelessness? My blood raced through my body and my heart rate was going wild. It wasn’t fear, but clean anger.

“Which one of you gave me this concussion?” I pointed at my head. Jimmy looked at Scooter with the same twisted features as before and Scooter dropped his smirk.

“I guess that would be me“ Scooter raised his hand “I thought you were one of those pale skins” I pushed him angrily up against the wall, a painting fell down and hit the floor.

“Do you think I look like one of those creatures?!” I hissed miffed and tightened my grip around his collar, letting my entire anger stream out into that grip.

“No. no. That a’ hell of a temper ya’ have there” he mumbled “don’t’ get me wrong, it’s darn charming” he wiggled with his eyebrows.

“Don’t go there with me” I stated and pulled his collar even tighter.

“Oh, I would go everywhere with you. If ya know what I mean, pumpkin” Scooter replied, followed by a wink. I looked over my shoulder, to see Irene and Steven pulling their weapons. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea anyway; being tough and violent. I mean I have no chance if they decide to meddle in. I looked at Scooter again and stepped back, with my eyes glued to the floor. I couldn’t just let him talk like that to me, but what should I do? I felt a rough hand on my chin lifting my head up. He touched me. Maybe the biggest mistake he could make right now.

“That’s right darling, ya better calm down, we have some fine weapons here” he chuckled with a superior smile. I felt the burning rage inside of me as my knuckles tightened into a grip around his hand.

“Touch me again and I’ll rip you intestines out and strangle you with them in your sleep” I hissed at him, looking him directly in his eyes. He showed fear, like really fear. I could see out of the corner of my eye that Steven and Irene had reacted on my violent behaviour and was moving slowly towards us. Did I cross the line? No, 1.He hit me with a metal pipe, 2.He touched me and I’m not going to just stand there and look scared like I did when I was younger. No more. If you hit me, you gonna regret it. F*ck their weapons!

“What ya say, ya little b*tch!” he jacked his hands away from my grip and grabbed around my, already sore, wrists.

I moaned low as he pressed harder into the cuts. I didn’t care anymore, they could shoot me, they could kill my right there, I didn’t care; this jack*ss was going down now. I acted fast and kicked him right in his crotch; the loud groan told me that I’d kicked hard enough. It took him 5 sec. to release me and grab his crotch while his whimper continued. Tears slowly appeared in his eyes and he stormed towards me with his fist raised high above him. He was clenching it so hard that his knuckles went white. The fist came flying towards me like a rocket and missed me when I ducked. Irene and Steven was yelling something behind me but I didn’t pay attention to what, instead I gathered all my anger and rage in one roundhouse kick colliding it like a wrecking ball right into Scooters face; he flew to the side and landed with his back against the wall, surprisingly still standing, followed with another picture falling down. He regained his balance quick and was about to go for another try.

“ENOUGH!” Steven shouted with his gun pointed at Scooter, who stopped. The room was filled with anger, the air so thick of it that you could cut through it. Irene and Jimmy stood on either side of me with knifes ready to stab. I was sending raging looks at Scooter and he was doing the exact same thing to me, his chest went up and down and his breaths were fast and loud, like a mad bull.

“Don’t come near me…Ever!” I hissed at Scooter and rushed out of the room, with pain wrapping around my wrists. I wasn’t sure where to go right now, I was just so furious, so mad and full of burning rage; I had to sit down for a moment and think. I was back in the long hallway where I puked and knew that no one had followed me so I decided to take a break here.

What the hell was I doing? I have been here two days and been unconscious most of the time. Why do I always end up raging like that? it’s like I’m not me when I get angry, like something washes over me and turns me into this mad, sicko fighter. I can’t control it, and like Warrens kindness, it’s going to get me killed one day. Oh yeah Warren, that guy better keep his hand away from my stuff while I’m gone or else I-.....My thoughts were interrupted by distant footsteps.

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