Extra's Guide To Surviving The Apocalypse

Chapter 93: Chapter 92: The Story She Remembered

And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to remember what had happened in the novel.

The story had begun long before the apocalypse.

It had begun with Rose.

Rose had been the kind of girl people naturally noticed.

She was beautiful, confident, and effortlessly charming. Even before the world ended, she had a way of drawing people toward her. Teachers liked her. Students admired her. Boys wanted her attention.

She had been the kind of protagonist who seemed destined to shine.

Iris remembered reading those Chapters and thinking that Rose’s life sounded almost unreal.

Then again, that was the point.

It was a novel.

Everything had been written to make Rose’s world revolve around her.

And somewhere inside that world was Iris Hale.

The original Iris.

Iris’s fingers curled slightly against the tree trunk.

She still remembered the first time she had seen that name in the novel.

Her name.

At first, it had only been amusing.

She had thought it was a strange coincidence.

Then she had started reading about the girl.

Iris Hale came from a wealthy family. The Hales had money, influence, and connections. They lived in a mansion that most people could only dream of entering.

Yet despite having everything that should have made her untouchable, Iris had somehow become one of the easiest people in school to target.

She wasn’t cruel.

She wasn’t a bully.

She wasn’t the spoiled rich girl everyone expected her to be.

She was simply awkward.

She struggled to defend herself when people cornered her. When she became nervous, she often said the wrong thing. When she felt embarrassed, she became defensive.

And people took advantage of that.

Iris remembered reading those Chapters and feeling something she hadn’t expected.

Sympathy.

There was something about the character that felt strangely familiar.

The way people dismissed her.

The way everyone seemed to believe the worst about her.

The way even her own family rarely seemed to understand her.

It reminded Iris of her own life.

She had never expected to become attached to a fictional character simply because they shared her name.

But she had.

And then there was Seraphina.

Iris’s best friend.

At least, that was what everyone believed.

Seraphina had always been beside her.

They studied together.

They talked together.

They shared secrets.

Iris trusted her.

That trust was what made what happened next so much worse.

Iris remembered the scene clearly.

It had started with a few private messages.

Nothing extraordinary.

The original Iris had been talking about Rose.

She had made a few sarcastic comments. Complained about something Rose had done. Maybe even joked about her.

It wasn’t unusual.

People complained about one another all the time.

The problem was that those messages were never supposed to leave their private conversation.

Seraphina leaked them.

And once they were out, the meaning changed.

People didn’t see a frustrated girl venting to her best friend.

They saw jealousy.

They saw hatred.

They saw a rich girl looking down on the beloved Rose.

The screenshots spread quickly.

People began talking.

Then laughing.

Then pointing.

Iris remembered one particular scene from the novel.

Rose had been surrounded by several girls when someone showed her the messages.

Rose had looked shocked.

Not angry.

Not immediately.

Just hurt.

That was what made everyone turn against Iris.

Rose didn’t need to accuse her.

She only had to look disappointed.

"I didn’t know she felt that way about me."

That single sentence had been enough.

Someone else had immediately defended her.

"Don’t worry about her."

"She’s always been like that."

"She’s probably just jealous."

Rose had lowered her eyes.

"I don’t want everyone fighting because of me."

And somehow, that made everyone hate Iris even more.

Iris had tried explaining herself.

She had tried saying the messages had been taken out of context.

She had tried explaining that she hadn’t meant half the things people were accusing her of.

Nobody cared.

The more she defended herself, the guiltier she appeared.

The original Iris had been trapped.

And Rose had barely needed to do anything.

Iris opened her eyes.

The memory still made something twist unpleasantly inside her chest.

She had hated that scene when she first read it.

Not because Rose had been openly cruel.

That would have been easier.

It was because Rose had always remained just reasonable enough.

Just kind enough.

Just innocent enough.

She never appeared to be the villain.

The story made sure of that.

Rose was the protagonist.

The reader was supposed to understand her.

So when Iris was pushed aside, it felt justified.

When people stopped trusting Iris, it felt natural.

When Rose became more important, it felt like the story was simply moving forward.

Then the apocalypse came.

Everything changed overnight.

The world Iris had known disappeared.

Cities fell.

People panicked.

The dead began walking.

And the people who had spent their entire lives believing they were safe suddenly discovered that money could not protect them from everything.

The Hale family had prepared as much as they could.

They had resources.

They had a large mansion.

They had staff.

They had connections.

But preparation could only go so far when the entire world collapsed.

The family eventually had to leave.

They searched for safety and eventually made their way toward one of the shelters.

That was where the story began to become darker.

Rose had also survived.

And just as she had been popular before the apocalypse, she became influential afterward.

People gathered around her.

Some because they trusted her.

Some because they admired her.

Some because they wanted her protection.

And some simply wanted to stay close to the person who seemed destined to survive.

Rose’s group grew.

So did her influence.

She gathered capable people around herself.

Men who admired her.

Men who were willing to fight for her.

Men who would eventually become part of the strange circle of people surrounding her.

Iris remembered reading those Chapters.

Rose was becoming stronger.

The original Iris was becoming more isolated.

And then there was the Hale family’s wealth.

At first, it had been an advantage.

Later, it became a problem.

They had supplies.

They had valuables.

They had things other survivors desperately needed.

Food.

Medicine.

Materials.

The family had managed to preserve more resources than most.

That made people suspicious.

It also made them useful.

Rose knew that.

She didn’t immediately demand anything.

She didn’t need to.

Instead, she began asking questions.

Small questions.

Reasonable questions.

"How much food does the Hale family still have?"

"Do they really need all of it?"

"Shouldn’t everyone contribute what they have?"

"What happens when some people have more than others?"

None of those questions sounded malicious.

They sounded fair.

That was Rose’s strength.

She could turn suspicion into concern.

Greed into fairness.

Jealousy into justice.

And slowly, people began looking at the Hales differently.

Iris remembered one scene in particular.

Rose had been sitting with several survivors while they discussed the shortage of supplies.

Someone mentioned the Hales.

Rose had remained quiet for several seconds.

Then she had sighed.

"I don’t want to accuse anyone."

That sentence alone had made everyone listen.

"They’ve helped us before."

Another pause.

"But if people are starving, shouldn’t everyone be willing to share what they have?"

It sounded compassionate.

It sounded like something the heroine of an apocalypse novel was supposed to say.

The others agreed.

And that was all Rose needed.

Iris’s expression darkened.

Because she remembered what came next.

The attention began shifting toward her family.

People who had once smiled at the Hales began watching them suspiciously.

Questions became accusations.

Accusations became rumors.

And the rumors always somehow returned to Iris.

She was the easiest target.

The rich girl.

The girl who had supposedly hated Rose from the beginning.

The girl who had once complained about Rose in private.

The girl people already believed was jealous.

It didn’t matter that the messages had been leaked.

It didn’t matter that Iris had never actually harmed Rose.

The story had already decided who the reader was supposed to sympathize with.

Rose was the protagonist.

Iris was the problem.

Iris slowly pushed herself away from the tree.

There was something else she remembered.

Something that had bothered her even when she first read it.

Some of the men around Rose had begun paying attention to Iris.

Not because Iris was trying to attract them.

She wasn’t.

Some simply found her interesting.

Others admired her despite everything they had heard.

And Rose noticed.

The novel never called it jealousy.

It didn’t need to.

Rose’s attitude changed whenever someone showed Iris too much attention.

Her words became sharper.

Her smiles became thinner.

And somehow, Iris was always the one blamed.

If a man defended Iris, Rose was hurt.

If someone complimented Iris, Rose was uncomfortable.

If Iris tried to explain herself, Rose became the victim.

Eventually, the situation became impossible to ignore.

Iris had read those Chapters long ago.

She had never expected them to become memories.

She had never expected to stand inside the world she had once held between her hands.

And she certainly hadn’t expected to become the very girl whose fate had once made her angry enough to put the novel down.

Iris looked toward the distant lights of Velaris.

Caleb was alive.

Her family was together.

Velaris existed.

Eldilon had happened.

None of those things belonged to the story she remembered.

But the memories were still there.

And so was the ending she had never reached.

She hadn’t finished the novel.

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