[ @robatkins ]
Celeste could not hide it any longer -- she was scared out of mind. When she had seen the hospital her spirits had risen. That hospital meant hope for her. She was only carrying an oxygen tank with her. That was all that was sustaining her life right now, but she needed more. Medicine, injections, inhalers. If she did not get them soon, all of this would be for nothing. All of those things could be in that hospital. Maybe not. Nevertheless, the brunette had thrown her head back and released a smile of happiness.
One that did not last.
The moment the infected came running into the hospital, her smile disappeared. If even a brush of them came near her, she was dead. Her body was too weak to fight off a cold let along the virus that was taking many. She had not taken the necessary meds, meaning her immune system was weak. Every system in her was crashing. Celeste had stood in a room full of people she did not know. People that would rather take a bite for someone they loved than for a stranger. She held a gun with two bullets in them. No military training would save her now. A year ago she would have ran straight for the fight. Now, she ran for her life. That alone could almost kill her.
The brunette was curled up in some corner, fearing that any moment that door open, she would die. Her hand was shaking as she held on to her gun with two stupid bullets left. “Breathe, Celeste, breathe,” she chanted her little mantra over and over again. Having a panic attack while her lungs and entire system was slowly crashing was not something she could afford. But how could she remain calm when every sound, every gun fired, every loud noise made her jump. Reminding her of her time in the war, except this time she could not defend herself.
When the noise began to die down, she got on her knees and began to prepare her oxygen tank, connecting it to her nose. She was trying to save it up, but she needed it now. But that oxygen never came. She had run out. Even though she knew that it was empty, Celeste kept trying to inhale. Hoping, waiting, for some remaining oxygen to enter her burning lungs. At some point reality crashed on her, and she ripped the tubes from her nose. The usually calmed girl grabbed the oxygen tank and tossed it across the room with the little force she had left.
She was scared out of her mind and she was desperate. Celeste hated feeling this weak; this vulnerable. She was trembling. Her chest rising and falling as she tried to breathe an calm herself down, but she would not shed a tear. It was if she was saving those up for something else. Instead, she made her way towards the nearest cabinet, pulled it open and began to scanned what it had. Fingers running over the labels of the medicine that was held in that cabinet, trying to remember the name of the medicine she needed. Her mind was so focus that she did not even hear the door open and someone come in.













