Choices

Zim waited…. And waited…. And waited and waited and waited but still the Dib didn’t come through the door. He was in class, the gloomy and hawk-like Ms. Bitters loomed over the class like some sort of female grim reaper, waiting in the shadows to strike. Zita and the Letter M were passing notes back to each other in the form of a paper ball, Gretchen was talking nonstop to Melvin who was nodding and gazing at her as if she were Brittany Spears, and Zim was watching the door….. Waiting….. Just waiting.

Dib hadn’t come to skool yet today and it was driving Zim crazy. Sure he had come late before, screaming about nutmare vases and whatnot, but this was entirely different. For one thing, it was nearly the end of the school day, and for another, Zim hadn’t done anything to him! No infected needles, no experiments left in his refrigerator that he might accidentally have eaten thinking it was last year’s tuna casserole, nothing.

Zim’s claw-like nails had been digging into his desk through his gloves for the past few hours and now there were the first two letters of his name. Z-I. He was just finishing up the I when the bell rang, signaling the end of school. He raised his masked eyes and quickly stood up. He didn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone. Why bother when no one cared? Fake dark bangs hanging in front of his eyes, he walked out the door, down the hall, and out the other door, his destination, Dib’s base.

“Dib-human! Open up and let me into your base, so commands the almighty Zim!!! Open this filthy barrier and grovel as Zim comes into your unworthy dwellings!!!” Zim growled in irritation and shook his hand. It had begun to ache after the first few minutes of pounding relentlessly on the door, now it was fully throbbing. Scathingly, he grabbed the doorknob and ironically it was unlocked.

Zim’s eyes narrowed suspiciously but all the same he stepped inside. Curiosity killing that cat and all. Inside his gaze swept over the couch, Professor Membrane lamp, and hideous wallpaper. Not much had changed in six years. He had gotten a better wig, Dib had gotten contacts that he now wore under his glasses in case they got knocked off. Paranoid as ever he was.

Climbing the stairs with a furiously determined look on his features, Zim got ever closer to Dib’s room. He knew where it was, having taken a leaf out of the human’s book and scoped out his base and now he headed towards it and threw the door open. Inside it was almost pitch black, the curtains drawn and the light turned off. Even Dib’s precious computer, which he kept on at almost all times, had a stray shirt thrown over it so that it blocked out the light. As Zim’s eyes adjusted, he got ready to rant.

“Dib-filth where have you been? You did not show up for your usually ‘teachings‘. What is the meaning of th-”

Zim’s question died in his throat however as he looked into the dark amber eyes of his nemesis that seemed to catch his own as easily as a spider catches flies. Dib was lying on his bed, body heaving with each breath he took, sweat beading on his forehead and dampening his pajamas. His hair was matted to his forehead and even the scythe-like gravity-defying bit of hair that stuck out his head was limp. All over his body were blood red, bruise-like splotches that stuck out horridly against his ghostly skin.

Obviously seeing that Zim wasn’t going to finish his question anytime soon, Dib forced himself up, his hands shaking under him as he forced them not to give out. “What do you want Zim?” He spat angrily, a sickly grin appearing on his pale face. “Miss me so much you had to come?”

Zim glared at him. “Not on your miserable life inferior scum-filth.” Zim shot back, at the same time inching closer to him, his eyes suspicious of the marks on Dib’s skin. Like blood on freshly fallen snow it was both horrible and facilitating at the same time. “What is wrong with you Dib-stink?” Zim asked accusingly, as if the symptoms were all his fault.

Dib blinked rapidly, his eyes unclear and hazy, as if processing Zim’s question in slow motion. “I don’ know…” He muttered. “But would you close the door…. The light’s too bright.” He closed his eyes and gently slumped back onto the bed, his arms surrendering. He rubbed his hands together, as if his fingers were cold, at the same time breathing heavily, as if all he wanted to do was sleep.

Zim looked at the doorway. Dim light trickled in from other windows in various parts of the house, but it barely touched Dib. Zim turned his attention back to the human, who’s breath had suddenly caught in his throat. Dib’s hands closed over his mouth and without opening his eyes, he leaned over the side of the bed and retched, the contents of his stomach spilling onto the floor with a sickening splatter. Zim flinched and drew back in disgust, his squeedlyspootch threatening to follow suit.

After he was done, Dib collapsed back onto his bed, not even bothering to wipe his mouth. Zim’s eyes went from the vomit on the floor, to Dib’s room, darkened and lifeless, to Dib, his body shivering in a sheen of cold sweat. “Dib-human….” he murmured softly, his voice echoing in the shadowed room. “What on Irk is wrong with you?”