pseudokindness
she`s shaking to the bone with fear, and yet the sheer amount of anxiety paralyzes her, rooting her to the spot. a giant semi-truck much larger than she, much heavier than she, and gaining more momentum than she could ever withstand approaches faster and faster. she swears it`s going to hurt but she feels nothing. it`s dark, pitch dark, and it`s so quiet she can hear her own thoughts screaming, "i`m dead. i`m dead. there`s nothing more. i`m dead."
that`s the last of what she remembers before winding up in this dump of a town.
it lacks the glamour of city life, and the constant overcast gives an illusion of a chill in the air when the humidity just makes the scent of rotting corpses stronger. she`s still in her suit, but she removed her mask long ago after greedily slurping clean running water. there`s an irony in the thirst she feels despite being dead, and she wonders what she`d done during her lifetime that landed her in such a miserable afterlife.
ten years in a bunker, away from civilization. cindy can only wonder what she could have possibly done to get so much bad karma.
gravity takes its pull as her knees collapse beneath her, lowering next to a fresh corpse. there`s color in its cheeks, but cindy hasn`t seen a (real) living thing since she`d gotten here. dead bodies aren`t so bad... once you got used to them.