Already Dead

“Here i am.” she thought.

She had spent most of her life in bitterness and anger, there didn’t seem to be an end to the constant stream of shit that had made up her life.
She moved around in a constant state of distrust, mostly it appeared where men were concerned.
From the time she had sprouted breasts, they had been upon her like hounds.
She had compiled a folder in her head that she kept open.
Filled with all the lies, betrayals, and games each one had left imprinted on her memory.
He was no exception.
They had been together for years now, and she knew it was never going anywhere.
Why had she stuck around? She didn’t really have an answer for that, she had nothing left in her, which means she had nothing left to lose.
She didn’t need him anymore, at least in the way she had. In the beginning.
He offered no support or stability for the future, and the relationship itself was nothing exceptional, in fact it was pretty stale.
She knew he could take her or leave her, and the later seemed to be the most prominent choice in his mind, but it wasn’t like he ever really loved her to begin with.
She was just there, nothing extraordinary kept him from leaving her, she was no more important in his life than anyone else,and it seemed even the dog had priority over her.
She was not good enough to spend a life with, let alone a day.
Perhaps he stayed out of guilt or pity, that is what she had always thought, or maybe he was always just waiting for her to finally have enough and leave.

She was a character outline, and that was it.
She was the worst relationship he had ever been in.
She knew he looked at her with contempt every time she uttered a word.
That’s how it was though, she had offered nothing but love and the security it would always be there, but he turned it down and broke it apart because of a woman before her.
She got all the selfishness and dishonesty, that should have been someone else's fate.
She hated her life, and for that she hated him.
She hated him for turning out to be just like every other guy that had passed so quickly through her life.
She always wound up being second to a memory, a stepping stone to something better.
She was sick and tired of being last.
Wasting her youth on men that would eventually leave.
She was not marriage material, she didn’t know what she would do if she actually received the love back that she gave.
In truth she had come to despise men, their lack of multitasking abilities, their inefficiency, their self centered tendencies, the way they prided themselves on being so rational, only to behave as a scolded child.
Now, of course this may not be the case in reality, but for her it seemed to be the norm.

A long time ago she would have made wonderful wife for someone, but that was before every shred of her heart had been taken, all that remained was a festering cavity surrounded by scar tissue.
As it appears she was destined to be alone, but that was alright, she had become bored with the idea of settling down anyways.
Who wants to be admired and cherished?
Held in high regard and appreciated?
No, she’d stick to rambling men that took her for granted, why change now, she was so comfortable in misery.
She was built for rejection and paranoia, had someone come along that loved her, she would have found a way to sabotage it anyway, as if waiting for a bad punchline, or the inevitable restrictions. Most were only willing to give her so much love, she was handed the scraps, from the plate of the girl before her.
She had never been someones first love, and now she was to old to be someones last.
She no longer had the innocent vigor for life she had once possessed, she had nothing left to give.
They had won, she had been beaten down slowly over time, she had been used as the girl you made your mistakes on.
And no one ever felt they owed her an apology.
She had been bled dry of her naive ways, and passion for life.
She was and empty carcass that walked around pretending to be a member of the living.
She had become what she had feared most as a child, she had become the walking dead.
So it didn’t seem to affect her at all when others joined her.
Except these people were a different breed, they wanted from her what everyone else had wanted, her life, her spirit, her soul.
Yet, they were left wanting.
You see.
She was immune.
She was already dead.
She never really seemed to mind the hordes of them wandering around the streets, murdering the unfortunates that still believed in some sort of hope in the future, a cure, rescue.
She dealt with them as she did with everyone else.
She ignored them.
And they ignored her, well, at least for the most part.
There were times she hunted them for sport, but that was just something to keep her entertained while she watched New Babylon burn.
She always seemed to be waiting for one of them to see some sort of spark left in her, something that they would want to rip apart with their foul, rotting mouths, but it never came.
Hell they couldn’t even kill her out of pity or guilt, like so many had done before.

“Here I am” she thought.
Covered in coagulated black stench and gore that had once been her future ex.
There seemed to be no end to the shit that had made up her life.