<div style="text-align: left;">(http://i48.tinypic.com/ofbz49.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>DESI KRIST TERE</strong></span><br/>Location: abandoned house, Wellington<br/>With: Marcus<br/><br/>Desi nodded back to him, he was straight to the point and she liked that. Many people pissed her off with their dilly dallying, and she didnt have the time or the patience. With a heavy sigh Desi picked up the blankets and started folding them into her bag. It was a large duffle bag she happened to swipe their last trip into the Walmart. Luckily for them they had been lucky back there when the riots happened. She remembered back when it started, being convinced to follow Marcus, he was her savior but only for a few minutes. Once hell hit she remembered looting a poor homeless man, how could she have known he was freshly turned? Marcus had barely found her after the attack, which she almost didnt escape from. That was the only time she showed gratefulness towards him, when she took his offer to run away.<br/>Her normal routine for waking up wasnt much, she always counted their food and bullets, meager. Desi had a watch, digital, that sat inside of her wrist, it wasnt much and very useful for their trip. She checked it barely glancing at the time, but the date caught her attention; March 28th. Desi chuckled a little at the thought, never noticing the days going by so fast since last year, it seems she was just entering high school and now...<br/>"Its my birthday," Desi looked at Marcus with a half hearted smile.<em>Just perfect,</em>she thought,<em>Lets hope I wont die on my birthday, my fucking 18th birthday..</em>She didnt care that today happened to be the one day she should be happy, she cared that the door to adulthood opened and all she could thank for was their one can of corn and a gun with only a pack of bullets left.<br/>She grunted as she heaved out of the door of their shelter, its abandoned glow didn't change when she slammed it behind them both. She waited for Marcus to call their move, she didnt know wellington at all and wasnt a great tracker in the least. It was cold, like always, but Desi wore her torn jacket, covering what she normally wore on the streets; Black tank top and some old bell bottom pants. Her life on the streets meant never being able to change or clean her clothing. She looked around, watching her breath float off into the chilled air. Desi looked out down the road, trying hard to see any moving thing or person. It wasnt as if she wanted anyone to be around, but she did know there were others. She remembered hearing people a few nights ago, maybe they were going their way. She doubted anyone was really going to accept them into their group, but maybe they would if she changed. It was her fault when the last survivors came by them, Marcus didnt see it but she had provoked one of them. She never liked older men, couldnt trust them while living on the streets. When one of the men decided to give her a look over, Desi couldnt hold back and threatened them. Maybe Marcus shouldve given her to them, he wouldve been better off without her.