nina semen.

i sat of the edge on the dingy bed, wrapped in a dingy towel, and looked around the dingy hotel room. i’d stayed here once before, before Day Zero. it’d been a really nice place: swanky, five hundred bucks a night for a room the size of a tin of wet cat food and a fluffy  to wear that they charged you eighty dollars for if you tried to steal. you’d never know that now with the peeling wallpaper border, torn, stained carpet and missing electronics.

didn’t matter though, beggars can’t be choosers and it had running water and was fortified pretty well so you could get a good night’s rest without your finger on the trigger. i slept with my hand on my shotgun anyway, but it was nice knowing that the odds were a bit lower that it could slip off without me dying for it.

her skin was tight with dehydration, pulled thin and taut and shiny over her bones, which jutted out at awkward angles from everywhere, all over her body. the white gossamer gown exaggerated how much weight she had lost, settled into the gap between her narrow thighs, sank into her concave abdomen. it was hard to believe it’d only been a couple of months since i’d seen her last. she’d been healthy and round then - maybe too much so, still fighting off that baby weight.

her head rolled around listlessly. her hair was dry and thin, her exposed scalp covered in sores, some of them oozing a thick black fluid, others scabbed over. her lips were cracked and white. from deep in their heavy lidded sockets her black eyes floated over my face as if trying to place me, but unable. i reached over and took her small hand in mine. her knobby knuckles pressed painfully into the pads of my fingers.

suddenly she lunged at me, thrashing wildly, struggling against the restraints of her hospital bed. i cried out in spite of myself and jerked my arm free, as she was digging her brittle nails into my wrist. she screamed at me, or at least she let out what would have been a scream had she still been capable of it. it was more like a strangled groan, but high pitched. terrifying. she was no longer in a stupor, she was aware and intent: focused on me. her back bucked violently over the bed, the tendons in her limbs flexing. i knocked over my chair backing away, unsure what to do. i thought she’d break free, but then she stilled herself as immediately as she’d gone into her frenzy. turning her head the other way, she laid back, moaning softly.

the doctor stepped in from the shadows of the doorway, a grim look on his handsome but worn face. “i’m sorry,” he said through clenched teeth.

i wiped my tears quickly and sniffed loudly, trying to steady my voice before i opened my mouth. “what now?” i asked.

he sighed and looked up at the flickering light. reaching with the clipboard he’d been clutching to his chest he tapped the casing which only made it worse. he sucked his teeth in annoyance, then held the clipboard out to me. “now that you’ve seen her, and her condition, you just need to sign the recognition form and we’ll be able to put her down.” he pulled a pen from his coat pocket and clicked it open.