The Dead Walking 3

So many things happen in a lifetime. Some are good and some are bad. All of these things make up a person. All of these things determine who you are. I have to say that my memories are mostly bad, but the few good ones are the things that keep me going. (this is the third book in the Dead Walking series)


3. Not Really Living, But Close Enough

             I fell asleep sometime after Carl. I also woke up sometime before Carl. I decide not to wake him though. He probably needs the sleep. I stand up and stretch my tight back. It pops in multiple places. I yawn a little and jump down off of the little ledge that our bed is on. I don't really know what to do. There's so many things that I've always wanted to do in a store, but they all seem stupid and pointless now. I feel like changing something about the way I look. Make up? No. Change my clothes? No I just got these. My hair? Hm. What can I do with my hair? I don't really want to just "put it up" I want to really change it. There is only one thing I can think of.

       I walk to the "all things hair" isle. I find just what I need. Scissors used for cutting hair. I find a small mirror and set it at eye level so I can see my face and my hair without having to hold it. I'm not sure what to do. I gave it a trim a couple days ago, but it wasn't even noticeable. I sigh and just start to cut. My heart is thumping fast in my chest from nervousness. I've always had pretty long hair. I mean the shortest I've ever had it was down to my shoulder blades. I pull my hair to one side and cut at least 4 inches off. I switch it to the other side and trim it up so it is even. I push it behind me and examine how short it is. Its still decently long. About the center of my back. I cut about 2 more inches off. Its about down to my shoulder blades now. I cut off 2 more inches. Now its only about an inch past my shoulders. I run my hands through my now, short hair. I'm almost appalled. I'm used to running my fingers through long thin hair, now my hair stops so short and its at least 2 times thicker than it was. It doesn't look bad. Just different. Now for my finishing touch. I pull some of the hair forward and cut in a diagonal line to give me bangs. Then I lift up hair in random places and cut them pieces shorter so I have layers. My hair looks a little shorter after I'm done with the bangs and layers. I wonder what Carl will think?

          I take a deep breath. I have to say. I like it. I turn around and head back to where me and Carl stayed. He is sitting up when I turn down the isle. His mouth drops at the sight of me. I bit my lip and feel my face flush with color. He isn't looking at me like I look bad, so that's a good a sign. "What do you uh... think?" I ask.

       He raises an eyebrow and nods. "Nice."


       "Yeah. You always look good Izzy."

       "Whew... I was afraid you wouldn't like it," I sigh in relief. He smiles.

       "Its better now. The less hair you have the harder it is for a zombie to grab it," he points out.

       "I thought I could just "put it up?" I ask sarcastically.

       "You can. But I think you look good with short hair," he comments.

       "Well I'm glad you think so," I smile. "I want to do something," I say.


       "I don't know. Run around, just DO something is general," I shrug.

       "I cant do much," he points to his arm.

       "Not with your left arm, but you still have the right one," I tease.

       "Oh yeah... one freaking arm! Woo hoo!" he rolls his eyes.

       "YOU don't have to do anything, but I am," I shrug.

       "Well of course I want to do something. Why would I want to sit around all day and do nothing?" he asks.

       "You wouldn't so come on!" I urge.

       He rolls his eyes and stands up. He groans a little, but other than that he doesn't need any help. I grab his right hand and skip down the isle with him trailing behind me. "Izzy I cant run that fast!" he moans.

       "I'm not even running Carl."

       "Well stop skipping so fast!" he demands.

       I slow down a little so we can go at the same pace. "I thought you were shot in the arm, not the legs," I tease.

       "It hurts to have my arm bouncing around as I run!" he insists.

       "It cant hurt any worse than when I got shot," I shrug.

       "Yeah," he says quietly.

       "So uh... what do you wanna do?" I ask, changing the subject.

       He shakes his head. "You're the one who wanted to do something."

       "Ugh," I groan.

       "Ugh," he mimics me.

       "Fine we'll uh... oh my god! We can ride around in shopping carts!"

       His face drops. "Are you being serious right now?"

       "Do I look like I'm joking?" I ask.

       "I cannot ride around in a shopping cart!" he shakes his head.

       "Oh don't be a baby."

       He sighs. "Lets go ride some shopping carts and try not to die... yay!" he says with fake enthusiasm.

       We walk to the front door and into the little room where the shopping carts are held. I grab one and he grabs one. I push the cart outside. I stop at the beginning of the parking lot. "Okay so this is what we have to do. I am going to push the cart a little ways and then jump in. You cant do that so... I'll give you are push once you are in before I get in mine," I nod as I talk.

      "Okay," he says, but I can tell he doesn't like the idea.

      "Don't be such a party pooper!"

      "I'm not... I would be totally fine if you and I weren't SHOT somewhere on our bodies," he explains.

      "That actually makes it better because now it doesn't matter if we get hurt since we're already hurt," I point out.

      "Actually it does matter because even though we're hurt now we are still able to kill things and stay alive. If we get hurt worse then we might not be able to do that."

      "Oh well, lifes about taking risks!" I throw my hands in the air and laugh.

       He shakes his head. "Lest just get this over with."

       He gets in his cart and positions himself so he is not leaning on his left arm what-so-ever. "Are you ready?" I ask.

       He nods. I put my hands on the bar and start to run. Once I have gained enough speed I let the shopping cart go and watch as he rolls down the parking lot. He's actually going really fast. He grips the sides of the cart as he goes. I smile and run back to my cart. I push it a little ways before throwing myself over the side. I land awkwardly in the basket. Some how I am leaning toward the left, but my left leg is hanging out and my right leg is twisted under my left one. One of my arms are smashed under my body. I find it hard to breath in this position. I sit up right and catch my breath. Carl is way ahead, but I am catching up fast. My cart is going at least 2 times as fast as Carl's.

       Up ahead Carl rolls to a stop and fly past him. I wave as I go by. He just smiles. I feel my cart stop to stop once I have reached the very edge of the lot. I hop out and pus my cart back to Carl. "Now I know this isn't really living, but its close enough. I mean I have always dreamt of doing this and I would never had been able to do this if it wasn't for the zombie apocalypse," I say.

        "Okay so it was a little fun... but its still dangerous."

        "And you're my boyfriend not my mother so you're allowed to do dangerous things with me," I smirk.

        He laughs. "And you're my girlfriend so I'm allowed to look after you."

        "Truth," I nod.

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