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[indent][sub][COLOR=red][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] Graves Residence; Front Yard[/sub][sup][right][COLOR=red][b]Timeframe[/b][/COLOR] Early Morning[/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=red][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] None[/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=red][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] N/A[/right][/SUP][/indent]
[indent][indent]This wasn’t exactly what Hailee Graves expected.

In normal circumstances, she’d be in class, finishing up her senior year until June finally eclipsed Huddeen. Instead of being bored in her first class of the morning, however, she was stuck at home thinking. Her mother had gone out with her brother, to run some supplies to some families further away from the town center then they were. Because that’s what they were now. Survivors. 

[color=red]“Don’t go into town alone.”[/color] She muttered, throwing a baseball in the air as she sat on a bench outside, [color=red]“Don’t get grabbed. No shit, Mom.”[/color]

She rolled her eyes as her hand swiped the ball out of the air.

She could be [i]left[/i] alone at [i]home[/i], but she couldn’t go anywhere–especially not into town–by herself. A restriction her good old, totally always present, always reliable mother couldn’t really enforce but one Lee didn’t exactly have the moxie to challenge either. The warnings sounded eerily like the ones when she and a bunch of other kids went to the city for a concert. A small indie rock show. Though, this time the creepers were [i]creepers[/i]. In stories like this, not that she read those kinds of stories, the mechanics and mythology of the monsters didn’t always make sense and sometimes they weren’t explained in the first place. At the end of the day, if she had to deal with a creep, she had a good softball bat at her feet if need be.

Creeps. Yeah, that was a name that could work. Felt less absurd than “zombie” or whatever. That’s what she’d call them.

[color=red]“See one. Aim for the head.”[/color] She thought out loud as she threw the baseball up in the air again. [color=red]“If they even come around.”[/color]

At least she wouldn’t have to deal with her mom teaching 12th Grade English & Literature again. Having your mom as one of your teachers sucked. Though, having her as a survivor might’ve been worse. Whatever. Not like she could do anything about it.

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