Mistakes

[slavyori]

The day was sunny- absolutely gorgeous in a small Louisiana town. Little Aria, only ten years old, was dragged along by her parents to that stupid family reunion in the middle of nowhere. She said her hellos- had her cheeks pinched by grandparents and arguments with her mother about table manners.

But finally- she got the chance to play. Running, she clumsily kicks the soccer ball along the green grass, quickly moving around the two rival cousins blocking her path. Just as she is about to get the perfect shot into the goal- a hand comes and pushes her onto the ground, sending her knee straight into a damn rock. She clutches her knee and begins crying, as any girl would, looking up at cousin Mark with teary eyes. In response, Mark simply laughs “Should have gotten out of my way, los-” The words are abruptly cut short by a fist hitting the side of his jaw, and the young boy quickly hitting the grass beside Aria. Turning her gaze to her left, she sees Stephen, only a few years older than her- painfully shaking his hand as he mutters a couple curse words. Aria looks between the asshole cousin on the ground, and Stephen leaning over her to examine her knee. “Oh shoot- let me get you something…”

The memories from the polaroid photo come to a close- being held in the hands of the now 26 year old Aria. It showcases the young Aria leaning on Stephen, keeping her weight off her injured knee with a soccer ball at their feet- and the rest of their family surrounding the two. Everyone was smiling on that sunny day.

Aria stuffs the photo in her pocket and grabs some other things from her apartment- it was time to finally get out of this city. Climbing down the ladder, she walks down the street and passes Stephen’s old clothing shop, a rotting corpse laying inside. Memories of how worried she has been for Stephen at the start of the outbreak flood back. She has done everything she could to keep him safe so far- gave him weapons, firearms, radio… she even lent him her gas mask when going into the sewer. Yet she still worried it wouldn't be enough- that one day she wouldn't be able to keep him safe.

Once everyone loads into the trucks and cars filled with their supplies, she glances at her cousin sitting on the other window of the car in the rear. He was silent… he usually was, but she noticed he has been struggling more and more to communicate how he felt. It hurt her to see him like this, but she was confident that he would push through and overcome those emotions that smothered him. He was strong- he was her best friend, and the only family she has left.

Her uncle was gone- died pointlessly when he would have still been alive and well if he wasn't pressured to join the group. Despite what everyone said, she still felt rage towards everyone because of it, including herself. The old man selflessly gave away everything he owned to them, even his own life, all for nothing. The thought of it brought her hands to close so tightly it drew blood.

Aria wipes the blood off onto her pants, hiding her hand from the view of the others in the car. Taking a deep breath, she tells herself that she still has her cousin. Many times, they told each other that they would keep each other alive- that they would stick by each other to the very end and leave the group if needed. Just the two of them- a pair of mentally unstable cousins surviving in this rotting world. The secrets she told him, of the unwanted blood lust that grew in her throat- she only trusted him because of how close and equally flawed they were.

His words “One mistake does not define who you are…”

It is the only thing that keeps her from believing she is not the monster she thinks she is- the thing everyone else would think she is. Without him, she would be lost. Without him, she would lose the only thing keeping her from falling back into the madness that grew for years.

Those thoughts pass slowly as the hours drag on- the day passes and the pair walk down the street near the gas station of the swamp town. Few words are said between the cousins, but Aria glances at Stephen’s new soviet tanker hat adorned on his head, a sly smirk growing on her face. She found it and gave it to him- partially to help keep his noggin safe and partially to make him look like a dork. Teasing each other was how they kept themselves sane.

They come across several bodies laying along the blocked road, both of them approaching one in particular. Nearby lay the corpse of a woman and a random brick.

The image of teenage Aria slamming a brick against the skull of her best friend Emily, flashes. She remembers the shame, the guilt of it. They were arguing and… Aria just snapped- did something she never thought she would. She panicked, hid the body and evidence… somehow got lucky and was never caught. She remembers hugging Emily’s parents at the funeral. Why wasn't she caught? Why would God allow this? She was a monster- only a monster could have done this. Aria convinced herself she was a monster, and she started growing the hunger of a monster. A hunger she tried to ignore for the rest of her life, despite her trying to redeem herself through becoming a homicide detective. If it wasn't for the death and gore now flooding this world- she knew would have done it again.

She forces the thoughts from her mind as she notices the corpse of an old man, maybe late 70’s, with a khaki shirt tucked into slacks… and a bullet hole between his eyes. Aria stares at the corpse in silence for a moment, just as Stephen did.

He turns his head away. “Come on, let's keep moving.”

Aria ignores his words, her eyes locked in the grey- rotting flesh of his face. “I bet he was a salesman. Maybe a car salesman.”

Stephen doesn't say anything, continuing to stare off in the distance.

She continues, her eyes staring somberly “I bet he has lost loved ones in wars- given his age. Maybe even a child of his own.”

He turns, looking at her. “Aria…”

“I bet he had grandkids. He probably saved up a college fund for them.”

“Stop…”

“You think they are still alive?”

A quick movement- a sickly crack of bone… Aria’s vision goes black. Her head recoils to the right- away from the strike of his rifle butt, bouncing off the car and hitting the asphalt below as her body collapses. How ironic… perhaps it was karma for what she did to Emily.

Hands shake as he covers the bleeding head of his last family member, voice cracking as he cries out in disbelief while blood spills across the family photo left in her pocket.

​