"You know I hate it when you feed them."

"Noted." Self-control helped conceal my real response, my real emotions, while the annoyance in my Aunt's voice contrasted greatly with the room's once cheerful green walls.

My boots' footfalls caused the aged floorboards to creak. And through a layer of glass, I could still hear the morning's growls as I entered the kitchen. "And good morning to you too, Aunt Carly."

"All it does is rile those things up and gather them in one spot."

With my mind still focused on disregarding this morning's mental collapse, my lips automatically asked, "Things?"

She sighed, her impatience obvious in the way that her hand rested on her hip, and that black heel continuously tapped against the stained linoleum. "Don't start that tired argument. We are not like them."

Raising a brow at her flawed reasoning, I questioned, "And what exactly do you think we are?"

"Not dead," she retorted. Such denial and self-hatred were palpable in the silence that lingered after her statement.

Oh, how she yearns to be what she once was.

Then I paused. For in some ways, didn't we all?

"Alyssa?"

Did I not yearn to return to a life that was no longer haunted by delusions?

"Earth to Alyssa!" Carly shook her head. "Have you listened to a word that I've said?"

Her lean figure rested against the scuffed counter, brown contacts watching me intently over the rim of her cup. "Where's Hailee?"

I opened the refrigerator door, vaguely noticing the lack of light. However, the putrid odor of decomposition as it reached my nostrils was certainly hard to ignore. Gagging, I quickly closed its entrance. "What the hell was that?"

"Another power outage." Black slacks were soundless as she turned away. The sunlight caused the white of her blouse to appear almost iridescent while her focus reverted to the pot before her. "Nothing new. We should be happy that the government deemed it important enough to still man the power plants. A sporadic outage here and there is nothing compared to a lifetime of darkness."

I grunted, twisting my body away from that awful, lingering aroma—

God no!

Camille's sudden appearance inches from where I stood stopped my movements cold.

This isn't real, I began to chant.

My eyes fluttered shut only to reopen again.

My breathing became irregular, and still, I silently repeated, what you see isn't real.

Not much time had passed since our moment on the roof, and yet my mind had already reconstructed the sweet girl the fever had captured. Only now...

"The outage hit our area late last night," Carly continued, clearly unperturbed by my lack of response. "And since none of the meat went into the deep freezer, whatever we had has begun to spoil."

Darkness swirled around Camille's white irises. Lines etched deeply into skin made lies of the old concept of the dead forever sleeping peacefully. Brown skin remained pale as if faded of life, and yet now patches of it remained missing. Pieces of skin flapped open, exposing decay and clumps of maggots still feasting upon its host. And on her emaciated form lied the clothes we buried her in, earth falling onto the tile beneath her dirt-encrusted feet.

"Alyssa?" Aunt Carly called.

Why had she changed from the girl I knew?

"I-" I attempted, only the words died once they hit air as blood dribbled from Camille's putrefied lips.

Why was this drug so fucking cruel?

"What-" I started at the feel of a hand on my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Carly questioned, her eyes traveling back to the now vacant spot before me. "Did you see something?"

"No, no." A rather unsteady smile was forced upon my lips as I turned my attention to the almost empty cupboard beside me. My trembling fingers grabbed a chipped bowl and a spoon.

"You- you'd think the distribution of wealth wouldn't be a factor after the outbreak," I stuttered as I made my way across the room, my eyes zeroing in on corners and dimly lit alcoves for the evidence of my brain's corrosion.

She's gone now. Everything is okay again.

"I-Isn't the world's end supposed to bring about poverty to us all?" I continued.

"And what do you call this?" Carly questioned, her arm gesturing to Over-the-Rhine showcased just beyond the glass. The boarded-up windows, ancient siding falling off graffiti-covered houses, cracked asphalt, and the overgrown weeds that passed as grass.

Taking a seat opposite her, my weakness was concealed by the bitterness apparent in every word I uttered, "The lower spectrum of that scale. I'm sure downtown isn't suffering from a blackout."

"Don't start that old argument either. Fixing the power lines in a guarded city is pretty easy. Heck, we're lucky that portions of this city are even standing after the bombing, but if you want to contact the electric company to complain, be my guest." Those false lenses swiftly leveled with mine before Carly abruptly asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Her eyes narrowed as they surveyed me. "There's nothing that you want to tell me?"

It was then that laughter gleefully spilled out into the air.

My head slowly swiveled from the sight of an empty, cracked dish to the soiled fingers resting next to mine. Panting, my gaze trailed the dirt path over the dilapidated skin, and across the wrinkled fabric of the 'Grateful Dead' t-shirt. My sight lingered along the tips of kinky curls that led to the fractions of the dented skull that surrounded a face that I knew almost as well as my own.

Droplets of scarlet splattered my cheeks as Camille questioned, "What, no place setting for your best friend?"

Swiftly, I shut out the world with my eyelids' closure.

She isn't real, I repeated once again. This is simply one of the side effects. This is just like the memories.

"Alyssa, did you hear me?" Carly asked, her words breaking into my hallucinations and causing me to reopen my eyes.

Thankfully, this time, only two people occupied the room.

"What?" I asked. My aunt's expression clearly displayed her frustration. I shook my head as if the motion could clear away such vivid illusions before I stated, "I'm fine."

"Then I repeat, where's Hailee?"

"Shouldn't you know? She did come down here after she left my room." My aunt winced at the usage of that word before I amended my sentence. "I meant Shawn's room."

A grunt sounded to my right before Camille remarked, "You'd think she'd be used to his death by now. What has it been? Two... three years?"

"Shut up," I whispered to my darker self.

Carly stilled for a moment, that grip around the spoon tightening, her wedding ring glittering in the sunlight. Several minutes of silence lapsed before she asked, "Should I be worried?"

I paused in mid-pour, my cereal just barely making it into the bowl. Glaring at the tasteless cardboard that I once found delicious, I countered, "Why?"

"Because she knows what I know. You're bat-shit crazy," my best friend taunted like a whisper in my ear.

Only, deep inside, I knew... this wasn't Camille.

"You know why," my aunt replied.

Glancing upward, beyond Carly's poorly guarded expression, the encrusted layers of makeup, and the carefully styled bun, I could clearly see her anxiety.

And then I realized...

Beneath the façade, she's beginning to fear me.

Carly's breath caught as I reached for the Tupperware full of ground meat next to her. The portions of brain sprinkled with meshed flesh were practically causing me to salivate.

Scattering the dead atop my cereal like marshmallows over bran flakes, I replied, "I'm not deranged if that's what you're asking."

"Should we go over the definition of deranged again, dear friend?" Camille questioned as she appeared just to the right of Carly's fearful expression. A decrepit hand caressed one of my aunt's wayward dark locks, the movement appearing as if the wind blew it back. "Such concern, such love. She has no idea of how messed up you truly are, does she?"

Mocking amusement filled the room again. Its echo grated on my already over-wrought nerves, causing my nails to dig painfully into my palm.

For it sounded like a carbon copy of her laugh.

"Alyssa, Hailee mentioned that you spoke Camille's name."

"Aw, Saint Camille," my demonic bff taunted, a blood coated smile spreading across her face. "That's how you envisioned me earlier. It's how you want to remember me."

Ignoring that voice, I popped a morsel of the Peterson clan into my mouth before I countered, "So?"

"So, talking to those who are no longer here doesn't exactly scream normal, Alyssa."

Nor does seeing corpses currently eating a citizen in the alleyway.

Curious at what lied inside Carly's perfectly coifed head, I deflected, "And just what about our situation is ordinary? Can you honestly tell me that you haven't called out for Uncle Thomas?"

"Nice try, Sweetheart," Camille teased as she pulled what was left of her figure up onto the counter. "Praying and discussing your troubles with a dearly departed husband is nowhere near close to what's going on inside your head, Alyssa."

The slight twitch of my eye began as my inner worries rolled off Camille's tongue.

Carly's lips thinned, suppressed irritation coming from her in waves, and yet, such an emotion was never present in her response. "That's different."

"There is such grief in this one," Camille stated before her head snapped back toward me with an unnatural speed.

"Such weakness. Make her pay for it!" that dark entity urged. "We both know what you are capable of, Alyssa. Inflict upon her every ounce of pain that you feel."

Within me, this sinister, overwhelming need surfaced. And I knew that once it took root, unearthing it was a power I had yet to possess.

Shaking my head, I stirred my concoction absentmindedly before I cruelly murmured, "It's no different than your inability to allow me to move any of Shawn's things. It's like you're constantly waiting for him to come home."

"I- I know what happened to my son," came Carly's broken admittance.

"Do you?"

My aunt's fingers busily dispensed spaghetti rather forcibly into three containers with what... appeared to be patted flesh-balls. Then suddenly, she paused to mutter, "I just don't think death should be enjoyed."

"Is everyone going to take on the role of your therapist today?" Camille pondered from behind my left shoulder, her voice like an evil murmur.

I sneered at Carly's audacity. Whether it was my brain's corruption or unexpressed resentment, I couldn't help but think of this woman as the definition of hypocrisy. Here stood Mary Poppins packing away lunch filled with the spoils of my kills while lecturing me on my methods.

"Who is she to judge you, Alyssa?" Camille alleged. "When has Carly ever had to get her delicate hands dirty?"

My spoon's ascension bestowed me with a slow crunch as the scrumptious mix of bland and zest assaulted my taste buds, my gaze tracking my aunt's movements. "Oh really?" I goaded. "It seems that you and Shawn shared that same sentiment."

Carly froze. "Don't go there."

"You remember where that belief led him, don't you?"

I watched the tale-tell signs of her mounting distress beneath that mask. The quickened rise and fall of her chest, the whitening of those fingers wrapped around that wooden spoon, and the hardening of her jaw were all involuntary actions as if she choked on repressed emotions.

"Alyssa-"

"His morals and principles wouldn't allow for him to feed. Those scriptures you and Uncle Thomas rammed down his throat wouldn't let him make the hard decisions." Resentment nourished my desire to see her snap, it nurtured my need to ruffle the perfect housewife image.

"Go in for the kill, Alyssa," this drug-induced demon enticed.

"No," Carly mumbled.

"And he wasted away-"

"That's enough-" my aunt ordered weakly.

"Do it!" urged that malevolent voice.

"Without killing-" I stated.

"Don't-"

"Without enjoying death-"

Carly's eyes closed as if the action could shut out the pain. "Alyssa-"

Only, I was no longer able to stop even if I wanted to. "His brain degenerated until he was as feral as those devourers outside."

"I said stop it!" A palm slammed against the counter, the thick wooden spoon splitting in two with the same ease of a human snapping a stick.

Carly looked as shocked by her moment of aggression as I was gleeful. "Well, look at that!" I squealed, my reaction much like Camille when unhinged. "That kind of strength isn't exactly what I'd label as normal."

There was a stifling silence that lingered as my amusement slowly died. It lasted until the drug's hold on me finally began to ebb; until I could literally feel tiny traces of compassion reanimate itself inside my cold heart.

"Have you had your fun?" Such devastation lied inside Carly's eyes, moisture trapped along its edges. "You might want to ask yourself why you felt so compelled to dredge up such heartache, Alyssa. Because you were never known for such cruelty, and the fever certainly didn't invoke that particular trait in me and Hailee."

My eyelashes swept downward to shield genuine feelings because with the lessening of that hatred came remorse.

Where the hell was Camille now?

Inside me, the tiny glimmer of my former self battled against the darkness. It struggled with this never-ending chasm of fury. And for a few seconds, the void lifted to allow shame to seep into my chest.

Guilt-ridden, my sight shifted to linger upon the horde's feast through the window.

Would I soon become like them?

Was my mind already too far gone to be saved?

Was my family's proximity keeping me tethered to who I once was?

I whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Like I haven't heard that one before." Carly's grunt was eclipsed by the rumble of Hailee's footsteps above us. My aunt made quick work of covering up what passed for food before her daughter could enter the room. "If only you actually meant it."

Like an explosion of energy, Hailee came bounding into the kitchen, long pigtails swinging out around her, and tattered bookbag attached to her back. "I think the sick ones caught something, Mommy."

Carly's accusatory glance clashed with mine before anger cooled enough for her to force a smile for Hailee's benefit. "I'm sure it's just a squirrel or a bird."

"Yeah, and your head isn't fucking buried in the sand," came the remnants of Camille like the aftertaste of a rather unpleasant swallow.

"You got your homework?" Carly asked as she began the methodical ritual of placing each container into a slightly bigger one before she positioned that dish into bag after bag.

"I think I left it in your room," Hailee yelled as she sprinted back up the steps.

Without pausing, Carly stated, "Contrary to what you think of me, Alyssa, I am not blind to what this world has made us into. I know what it takes to keep us... alive, which is why I overlook the activities that occur in the basement."

I took another bite, muttering, "I know this."

"Then what about your promise to me?" she countered.

"What?"

"To stay under the radar."

The identification card that she hurdled toward me was caught easily. And in my palms, lied the image of one of last night's victims. Renowned scientist Alicia Peterson. Even now, her smiling face managed to incinerate all trances of remorse within me.

"I found that this morning," Carly stated.

At my continued silence, my aunt lectured, "You targeted a colleague, really Alyssa? You can't afford-- no let me correct myself-- we can't afford for you to be this stupid. If too many of those people go missing, an investigation will be opened. An investigation that could ruin-"

Abruptly, she closed her eyes, her mouth pressing into a hard line as if she was trying to douse her anger. "The contamination didn't just affect you, Alyssa. Brooding won't bring them back, and hating those who you think are responsible will only draw unwanted attention to us. That's interest that we can't afford to attract. Now if you can't keep a low profile for your sake or mine, at least do it for Hailee."

"Got it!" My little cousin sang as she jumped from the last couple of steps, her emotions so opposite to what was displayed in Shawn's room. And for once, I envied the resilience of the very young.

"How about you get some cereal in you before we go?" Aunt Carly suggested as she made her way toward the door. "I just have to grab a few things from my office."

Pushing the bowl towards the grubby hands already inching toward my breakfast, I had to admit that it was weird to watch such innocence chowing happily upon pieces of the dead. Hailee maintained such a sweet grin, one tooth missing in the front while a mixture of bran and mushed brain matter coated pink gums.

Unintentionally, I migrated toward the window again to gaze upon what was left of this morning's fatality.

The sound of munching followed me, that small voice breaking into my thoughts. "Musta been one big bird."

I tried and yet failed to hide my smirk. "Guess so."

Small legs climbed atop the ancient breakfast table to get a closer look. "Lyssa?"

"Yeah?"

"What kind of bird wears heels?"

Pausing, I openly snorted. "The kind that only your mother sees."

"Ready?" We turned at the arrival of Carly framed in the run-down entrance. The sight of her transformed my smile into a tight scowl. With briefcase in hand, a white jacket now covered Carly's plain blouse. The enemy's logo was proudly threaded above her heart, Lumara Pharmaceuticals.

Breathe Alyssa.

My fingers' clutch on the edge of the table contained such force I was surprised that blood didn't drip from its surface. And yet, I felt numb to the pain. At that moment, I was unable to truly feel anything other this intense desire for revenge.

Just fucking breathe.

Hailee cheerfully jumped down from the table to run forward, leaving her discarded bowl beside me. "Mommy, you gonna find the cure today?"

"I'm going to try, my love," Carly foolishly promised. "We are certainly going to try."

Author's note:

What do you think?

I received a couple of comments remarking on the swift change of Camille's character. This was done to illustrate the side effects of the illness. It was meant to show how this disease corrupts Alyssa's thoughts. I wanted the disease to alter her memories, and affect her emotional stability which, to me, could only be done if this continually happened to a person that she once cared about. I wanted Camille to play Alyssa's devil and her angel.