Vivian's Pain

• Ryder Gavin, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2017

Vivian was eighty percent sure she should be dead. Hell, ninety percent, even! Maybe if she had been hit by a truck, sure! Excusable! Break a lot of bones and rupture a few organs, maybe, but it was... survivable. At least.
This was just ridiculous though. Her dark eyes glanced over to her right. On eye-level there was a splatter of dark red, a hole the size of a twenty cent piece in the centre of it. Then, she glanced to her left. A glistening revolver lay on the ground beside her.
The girl sat in a stunned silence as her hand brushed over the right side of her head. There was something wrong about how a patch of hair seemed misplaced, as if she’d pissed off a cheap barber trying to give her a trim.
Vivian gave a long, exasperated sigh as she came to her realisation.
Burying her face into her hands, she didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore.
The girl slowly reached down to her side and grabbed the revolver, cocking back the hammer and holding the barrel to her temple once again.
“Please… Please, please, please god please…”
The world went dark again. But not nearly for long enough.
It all came rushing back with a deep breath of air, eyes fluttering open and panting desperately. She had started sobbing, rocking back and forth in her chair as she let the revolver fall straight to the floor.
“No… Please, don’t… I didn’t…”
Normally, this revelation would be revolutionary. She was… She was immortal! Unkillable! She could live until the end of the earth, and further!
But a loud crash from the other side of the house reminded her of otherwise. Half a dozen uneven pairs of shuffling, scrambling feet grew steadily louder, until they were right outside her door.
The undead groans made her tuck her knees up to her chest as she shook in her seat.
Just close your eyes… Close your eyes and wait for it to be over… Please let it be over…