Feeling; heartbroken, numb, useless
There was Dylan. He looked serious and slightly terrified as he held opened the door. She stood to his side, looking around at him at the horrid things. People were running and screaming others were being tackled and eaten ate but other people. Had the world gone insane? She turned back to Dylan, grabbing his free hand. He hadn't let go of the door yet. "Come on, Dyl! Please I'm scared! He hadn't even responded to her when he was suddenly jerked out of her hand and back into the club they escaped. She screamed and ran towards the heavy door that had just slammed shut. She tried to pull on the door but it was locked from the inside. Unless you had a keycard or it was opened from the inside you couldn't pull it open. She beat at the door, tears running down her face. And then someone's arms were around her waist and she was being pulled away. She screamed and tried to fight them but it didn't help.
She opened her eyes, jumping a little as a hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed. She gave a soft sigh, realizing it was Morgan and not some lunatic trying to hurt her. She tightened her arms around her legs, which she had pulled up to her chest and wrapped her arms around. Her feet were on the edge of the seat while her shins were resting against the dashboard. She had scooted up some earlier so they would have more room in the back seat.
Even though a few tears still rolled down Nessa's cheeks, she felt numb. This couldn't be happening. It didn't make sense at all. They weren't in some zombie movie. She rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed her eyes. She didn't really feel it when the car drifted but apparently Morgan had. She listened to their conversation. "Henry please, if those things didn't kill us," Nessa winced at the word 'things'. "You are if you don't pull over and rest."
'Maybe it would be better if we died this way... Then I could be with Dylan. She thought to herself. If she voiced this opinion then her friends would probably go into some intervention mode. They weren't her parents. They didn't control her life. She could make whatever hell decision she wanted. They had no right to say what she should or shouldn't do. If she wanted to die, they should let her. But Morgan and Henry would never let her take her own life.
She remained silent, letting them fight over the next course of action. The only thing that jarred her out of her daze was when the car was parked and Morgan decided to get out of the car. She straightened up, her feet now moving to the floorboard of the car. Her eyes looked away from her friend, staring into the darkness. Her blue eyes tried to decern any figures or anything moving in general in the darkness. She saw nothing but she was still on high alert.
When Morgan jogged back to the car for the flashlight, she fished it out of the glove box then handed it over to Henry. And then when her friend disappeared inside, her heart started thumping so hard she thought it might beat right out of her chest. She didn't let herself relax when Morgan reappeared. Something bad could still happen, she knew that.
Nessa was the last one out of the car. She looked back at the empty back seat where she and Dylan had been snuggled up on the way to the club. He had taken off his leather jacket before the club and left it there. She grabbed it and her purse and followed the others inside.
She hesitated in the hall before she went into the living room. She sat on the floor, her back up against the couch. She pulled on Dylan's jacket that was too big for her. She wrapped it around her tightly and breathed in his scent. How could she have abandoned him like that? She should have stayed and faced the same death as he did. She closed her eyes. She was tired from all the crying she had been doing. She felt like someone had stabbed her repeatedly in the chest. Dylan had been her one love in her whole life. How could someone you love so much be taken away in a split second?