All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Left Alone to Die Alone
I feel alone, sitting here. It's so cold, so lonely. Where did I go wrong in my life? What did I do so wrong that I deserve this? My great grandmother warned me of this moment, but I never thought it would, or even could, actually happen. I wasn't aware of the possibilities that could be brought forth to me in this life. I should have taken the chance when I had it. I should have just killed him when I though I should have. The day I pass up an opportunity like that may never come again, but I'll be damned if I pass it up a second time.
It was just two days ago that my brother, Edgar, was infected with by the dream that haunted me for years; he was bit by a zombie. I never thought that zombies were actually real, but nothing more than another horrid fairy tale creature. He came to me that night and told me to kill him; he told me that the stories our great grandmother had told were coming true. He explained to me what happened to him. Edgar was walking home form school and passed by the baseball field. A small game was being played and his attention was drawn to it as he passed by a dark alleyway. He didn't even time to react before something grabbed him and pulled him behind a dark blue dumpster in the alleyway. From there he was in a fight to literally save his life. He had no idea what is was he was dealing with, when he grabbed the person's wrist and realized it had no pulse, he knew it was happening. He knew his great grandmother's warning weren't just something to scare us. He fought and wrestled with the zombie for only a few minutes before he escaped, badly scratched and bitten on his arm, he ran home. As soon as he got there he told me what happened.
When he asked me to kill him, I couldn't. I was just hoping some stranger attacked him. But since then I've learned to not hope for anything. It seems that only the things you hope for are the things that end up going against you. I refused to kill him, he was my brother and I couldn't bear the sight of actually killing my own brother. But he begged for me to kill him. I just couldn't do it; I took him to the bathroom and helped him get cleaned up. I cleaned and scrubbed his wounds; I realized they were much deeper than I thought. Blood was dripping out of them as I cleaned them. I can't stand the sight of blood, I had to leave him with towels to wrap it with and leave the room. I could hear him crying in the bathroom from all the way down the hall. He was yelling for me, yelling to me to just kill him. He knew what was going to happen, but I just didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to accept the fact that I may have to kill my own brother.
We went to bed that night, we sleep in the same room, but on opposite sides of the room. Both of us have a twin-sized bed, but no bed frame. We only have a mattress that sets on the floor, although it doesn't sound great, it's actually fairly comfortable. But it was that night that I realized I had made the worst mistake of my life. It would also be the mistake that would jeopardize my life itself. Late that night my brother got up out of bed, it wasn't unusual for him to get out of bed to get a drink of water, or use the bathroom. I didn't think twice about him getting up, I just remained in bed trying to sleep. But when he came over to my bed and grabbed my leg, it frightened me. He began pulling and pulled me onto the floor. I kicked him back and he let out a cry that sounded like it came from the depths of his belly. He started walking back over to me. I noticed the way he walked, he was wobbling from side to side and hunched over forward a bit. His breathing was very deep, like the sound of someone who's trying to breath while you're choking them.
It was this time I realized what was happening. I ran to my mom's room and realized she wasn't there. It was at that time that I remembered she left town for the week to visit her father in Idaho. That also means she took the one, and only, car that we have. I was stranded here with a zombie in the house. I ran out of the room and threw the door shot. There were a couple bags of cement mix right down the hall, I ran and grabbed one of them at a time and put them in front of the door. I was hoping it would hold the door long enough for me to get some supplies and leave the place. I was wrong, my brother rammed him body into the door and broke it off its hinges. It fell and hit the hallway wall just across from the door and my brother stepped out of the door and started to stagger toward me.
I ran down the hall and into the basement, which is also our storm shelter. I hurried and grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with supplies. I put a blanket, an inflatable pillow, some MREs, a few bottles of water, and a flashlight. As I was moving toward the storm door that led to our backyard, I noticed dad's old pistol setting on a shelf with a small box of 120 bullets. I grabbed it, not even knowing what kind of gun it was. I have never actually shot a gun myself, but my dad use to shoot them all the time at the gun range. Well that is before he died from his own bullet that ricochet off of his target and went straight into his brain, killing him instantly. The gun I had was the gun that killed him; it felt a bit weird using something that had killed a person before. But I had no time to think; my brother was coming down the stairs and into the basement. I shoved the box of ammo and the gun into my backpack and ran up the stairs into the back yard.
I looked around and it seemed that nobody was home. But it made me wonder, where would everyone go on a Thursday night like this? There weren't any holidays coming up, where could everyone be? I ran down the street to my friend Joe's house and knocked on the door. I was so happy when I heard him say, 'Come in!' from inside the house. I opened up and ran in, closing the door behind me. Joe was my closest friend and has been around me since I was only three years old. I set my backpack down on the floor and walked into his kitchen, he was cooking some trout we had caught the weekend before. He greeted me as I walked in, 'Hey what's up Edward! I didn't expect to see you here, I thought you'd be at home watching your little brother.' I tried to stay calm and avoid talking about my brother at the moment, I asked him where his parents where. He replied, 'Don't you know? It's local gambling week! Almost everyone in town goes to the casino just outside of town for a few days and party's until they're entire week's pay is gone. I wasn't able to go because I'm not eighteen.'
I couldn't resist anymore, I blurted out, 'My brother is a zombie!' Joe just laughed, thinking I was joking. I brought up the stories my great grandmother had told, since Joe was around for most of them, he remembered what she said, 'When life comes to a snag, it will reveal a power as deadly as the gods themselves. Only the removal of the head can kill them, but removing the wrong part could very well mean your death. Watch every corner, death is coming for the many people you know and are close to. Be aware, you have been warned.' Joe looked at me with a worried, and confused, look on his face. He looked down, and then back up at me, 'I honestly thought your great grandma was just insane. I didn't know there was actually truth to any of her stories. So are you messing with me, or are you actually being serious?' I looked him in the eyes and said, 'Have I ever messed with you? Have I ever pulled some childish prank on you? Yes we might be young, but I would never stoop myself down to be so immature as to lie to my best friend.'
Joe pulled his skillet off of the stove and looked at me. He just stood there and looked at me with a look of confusion. He finally said, 'I'm sorry Edward, I just can't believe you. You know me, I can't believe in anything until I actually see it, and something like your brother turning into a zombie is just so unrealistic that I can't believe it at all.' I felt angered at this point that he wouldn't believe me and told him that I would prove to him that I wasn't lying, that my brother really was turned into a zombie.
I walked him over to my house and opened the gate into the backyard. I looked over at the storm door and noticed it was open. I looked at it in fear when I realized that my brother got out of the basement. I started walking over to the basement, Joe was right behind me. I got to the entrance to the basement and looked down inside it. I looked around a little bit and noticed that he definitely wasn't in there. I heard a thump, then a grunt from behind me. I turned around a noticed my little brother was gagging Joe with his own hand and chewing on his shoulder. I picked up a rock that was lying in the grass and hit my brother with it. That knocked him down and Joe took off screaming. I quickly followed behind him, running back to his house.
As we were running he looked back at me to see if I was there, I looked at the ground and saw blood splotches. I looked back and noticed my brother walking toward us. We got to Joe's house and Joe ran in, slamming the door behind him. He was so afraid he completely forgot I was behind him; I opened the door and walked in. He was leaning against the wall right next to the door dripping blood. He started crying and dropped to the floor. At that time I realized I was going to have to kill him. But at the same time, I realized I had to cut off his head to kill the zombie that he would become. I couldn't face that fact. I grabbed my backpack and ran out his door. I could hear him yelling to me from outside, 'Edward! Come back! Help me! Please!' His cries for help were so painful for me because I couldn't go in and help him. His fate was sealed when my brother attacked him.
I left and started walking up the street, I was going to go into the scrap yard just outside of town and hope to stay there for some time. As I was walking I heard footsteps coming from behind me, I turned around and noticed my brother running at me. I took off in a full sprint up the road. I saw the sign that show the scrap yard was just a short distance away, but my brother was still trailing me. I ran into the scrap yard and found a small hole in one of the piles of metal, so I went in it. It was just barely large enough for me to fit through. I got deep into the pile of metal and there was almost a four-foot wide area in here, almost like it was meant for someone to live here. It was just barely big enough for me to get in and lay down. I flattened out some of the metal on the floor of the hole to give me a place to lie down.
I took this opportunity to rest and took off my backpack. I looked through it and pulled out the gun and ammo box so I wouldn't have to sort around them to find what I want. I knew I'd have a good amount of time to look through my backpack, so I took my time. It was very dark in the hole and I was finding things only by feeling them, I found the flashlight and turned it on. I realized it had brand new batteries in it and was very bright in the small hole that I was in. Also finally having my light on, I was able to observe the area that I was laying in a little better and was able to move and arrange metal pieces a little easier to make it more comfortable to lay on. I then reached for my backpack and pulled out the next thing I saw, my blanket. It was a fairly small blanket, but large enough for me to cover myself with in this hole. I set it aside and looked through a little more and found a pile of MREs and the water bottles I grabbed at the bottom of the bag. I pulled them out and started looking at each one, the first one was chicken noodle soup, I pulled out another and it was the same thing. I started pulling out more and realized I had grabbed a stack of all the same thing. On the instructions on the back it said it needed boiling water to be prepared. Then I realized, if you're stranded and need food, how the hell are you going to be able to get your hands on boiling water? Now I was mad at the people who made these things because they think somebody who is in need of food can get boiling water. I realized that this isn't the time to get mad at anything, so I took my water bottle and poured a little water into the MRE bag. I let it set a bit while the noodles softened and absorbed the water. Once it was fully prepared, I realized, I didn't have anything to eat it with. My stomach was growling after what had just happened in the past few hours. So I just tilted the bag forward and started pouring the cold soup into my mouth. It tasted terrible and was almost unbearable, but I knew I needed some food, so I finished off the bag.
By that time I was out of things to do, but still fully awake after what had happened just a little before. I started thinking about it and broke down with emotion of sadness and anger. I started crying and yelling. I just realized that I was going to have to not only kill my brother, but my closest friend. I punched the side of the hole I was laying in and caught my knuckle on the side of the metal. It started bleeding, I covered the wound with the blanked I brought with me until it stopped bleeding. I looked around the small area I was in and looked down at my gun. I picked it up and tried to figure out how it worked, I had never even handled a gun before that time. I pressed a button on the side of the gun and the clip fell out of the handle. It still had three shots left in it, but I filled it up. It would only hold eight shots, but I was hoping that would be enough to get rid of whatever it was that might attack me.
I filled the gun and started to examine it when I realized I was getting tired. I had no idea of what time it was, but I pulled my blanket over me and started to doze off. I was starting to get images in my head and almost asleep and in dreamland, but something grabbed my arm. I jumped and looked over, by now my eyes had adjusted to the dark and I could see it was my brother again. He let out a gasp and started to pull me toward him. I grabbed the gun lying next to me and unloaded the entire clip into his head. One shot after another blood spewed out of his head and into my little hideout. He stopped moving and I quickly reloaded another clip of 8 shots and held the gun against his head for a good ten minutes. After waiting about ten minutes for him to move, the thought that I killed my brother just crossed my mind.
I dropped the gun on my lap and looked at him. I moved my hand through his hair and the great memories of all the stuff we did together ran through my mind. Every good moment I've had with my brother was remembered at one moment, then it was over and I knew he was gone. I knew I would never see my little brother again. I thought about what would happen to me when my parents came home, would I go to jail, or would they be zombies too? At this point I didn't know what to think, it just seemed that everyone I am close to is turning into one of them. I pushed my brother out of the hole that lead to my small room in the pile of metal and stood next to his dead body. I got down on my knees and prayed, 'God, please forgive me! I had no choice but to kill my own brother, he was possessed. He would have killed me, but it wasn't his fault, please still accept him in Heaven, I don't want him to have to go through any more pain than what he already has. Please take care of my little brother God, he's worth more to me than anything in the world and his future was taken from him, the least you could do is give him a good life in the afterlife. Amen.'
I looked around and found a somewhat large piece of steel pipe and started digging a hole just next to the pile of metal I was staying in. Digging with a piece of metal was probably my worst idea of the night; it was taking forever just to get a good grave dug for my brother. But I kept at it, I kept digging and eventually it was deep enough to use as my brother's grave. I knew that because I was the person to kill him, I had to be the person to bury him. I picked up his dead body and laid it gently into hole. I could feel a tear rolling down my cheek. But with tears in my eyes, I buried my brother and put the pole I used to dig his grave right on his hole to signify that he was buried there.
I looked around and noticed the sun was starting to come up, I could just barely see it coming up over the horizon. It gave a little bit of light to the area I was in, at that moment I had realized I was digging for hours and at the same time I remembered that Joe was also infected. By now I figured out that by getting a punctured by a zombie, you basically became one. Thinking back to my great grandmother's stories, I realized that I was going to have to kill my already dead friend, Joe.
I climbed back into my hole in the metal and grabbed all of my stuff, most of it was covered in blood from my little brother, but I put it all back in my backpack and started walking back to my house. The only threat I thought of would be Joe, and by now he was probably far away from my house and lost my trail. I started to walk back down the road to my house.
As I walked I looked around and realized how much it sucks to be me right now. Nobody in town, zombies are taking over the place, and I seem to be the only person who can stop it from happening. I thought about Joe and knew that he could come out of any corner, any bush, any place to hide. I took off my backpack and pulled the gun out of it, I held it as I walked down the sidewalk. I could see my house, although it was all the way at the end of the street. I heard something coming from behind me and turned around, pointing the pistol I had behind me. I looked and it was a car, they honked at me for pointing a gun at them, but then I realized, it was a car, with people. Not zombies, but real people. I ran out into road and started waving my arms, they slowed down and stopped.
They started honking and the driving yelled to me, 'Hey kid, get out of the road!' I ran up to the driver's window and noticed it was the mayor, he looked at me and started yelling as soon as he realized who I was, 'Edward, do you realize how much trouble you can get in by having a gun out here? It's illegal! And on top of that, you are unsupervised running around on the street. What's gotten into you? You are normally such a good kid, what are you doing out here?' I replied, 'But sir, I'm 17 years old, I can take care of myself. And you don't understand my situation, my best friend is a zombie and I don't know where he's at!' The mayor change his look from very angered to very confused in just a few seconds and replied, 'Look kid, it's not my job to look out for you and your friends when you play your little games, but because everyone is out of town right now, I have to.'
'But mayor Thomas, you don't understand! I'm not playing a game, the city is seriously in trouble! There are zombies and they are turning everyone else into zombies and I can't do anything about it. I already had to kill my own brother because he was a zombie!'
The mayor started to look like he was starting to think of the situation as being a serious problem, then he said, 'Oh I get it, you just want me to play your game with you guys! Sorry, but I can't, I've got important business to work on regarding the city and I don't have time to play with you kids today. Maybe next week, bye Edward!' The mayor pushed on the gas of his car and started moving forward, I started running toward him yelling, 'But mayor, I'm not kidding! Come back!' But he just kept going. I stopped running, knowing that no matter what I said, he wasn't going to believe me. I walked over to the curb of the road and sat down. I used my hand that wasn't holding the gun to rest my chin on as I thought about the situation I was in.
As I was thinking I heard something, it sounded like a twig break. I looked around and realized that nothing was around. Was I hearing things? Am I actually going crazy? Then I heard a thud from behind me, I jumped up from the curb and looked back, it was Joe. I noticed that he had become one of them, he was a zombie. He was lying on the ground, but getting up, it looks like he tripped on something. I pointed the gun at him as he stood up and started walking toward me. His cloths were covered in his own blood. As I looked at him I still saw the face of my best friend. My hands were shaking as I tried to bring myself to shooting him. Finally I pulled the courage together to pull the trigger. I squeezed my finger and the gunshot, but nothing happened to him. I missed. I was so scared I couldn't even shoot him. I took another shot and a chunk of his skull blew off the side of his head and he fell to the ground.
I was saddened, and yet thankful for killing him. I was mad at myself because I just finished off my closest friend, but I just saved my own life. I then realized that being selfish really does pay off. I continued walking toward my house, then I heard a groan come from behind me, I looked back and it was another one of my classmates, Beth. She was the girl I was hoping to get together with; she was the love of my life. Even though I never actually got together with her, I still loved her as if I was with her. I could tell that she was one of them as well. At that time I realized that Joe was spreading the disease to others and now I had no idea who all was a zombie.
I figured I was already traumatized enough by the situation, I pulled the gun up and unloaded three shots into her head before she fell. I turned and wiped a tear from my eye and I walked back toward my house. It was only a few houses away before I got there.
I got to my house and walked to the door. I went in the house and locked the door behind me. Realizing the situation that I was in, I laid down on the couch and turned on the radio. You Had a Bad Day by Daniel Powter was playing and it made me think about the day I was having. I looked over the clock and noticed it was still early in the morning. My eyes felt very heavy and as soon as I laid my head on the couch arm I fell asleep.
At that time I had a dream, I was still listening to the same song as I was before I fell asleep and a music video flashed through my mind as I was sleeping. It wasn't the real video; it was one with me in it, and showing me running through the city with a twelve-gauge shotgun blowing the head off every citizen in town. In the end I end up dead lying against an old oak tree in the city park.
I woke up suddenly right at that moment and looked over at the clock, it was 2:14PM. I slept for about seven hours, and only had that one dream that seemed to last for only minutes. It made me think how well your mind can fool you with images, making you think things are happening faster than they really are. In a dream anything can happen, but some people dream about things that actually end up happening. It made me wonder if I was going to end up dying in the end. But I refused to accept that fate; I would not be killed by some zombie. I picked up my gun and checked the clip; it was still loaded with a full clip.
I heard a knock on the wall, wondering what it was, I looked through the window. It was the mayor. It looked like he had been mauled by a bear, I knew what happened to him. He had become one of them. He was ramming the wall with his shoulder, it looked like he was trying to get inside but couldn't figure out how. But again, I didn't have the heart to kill a person, even though I knew he wasn't actually human anymore. Just the fact that I use to know him as a real, living, person was too much for me. Even after shooting my own brother, my best friend and a girl I really liked, I couldn't bare to shoot another one. I was filled with emotions of anger, sadness, disappointment and frustration. I knew it wouldn't be too long before a man like Thomas would break through the walls of this house. At that time I thought of the mayor's wife, and realized that she most likely was also one of them. The only people there were still in town would be in city hall, and it's likely that all of them zombies as well.
I was hoping that my only hope of survival would be to make it to the city hall in hope of there being survivors there. I knew I had some time, so I went back down to the basement to gather more supplies. I looked around the basement and saw my old go cart parked in the corner of the basement. See that gave me a feeling of hope, the advantage of having something that could move fast would get me away from any one of the zombies. I looked around and couldn't find anything else that would be useful to me, other than more MREs. I grabbed some more, remembering that I only had chicken noodle soup with me. I also grabbed a small cooking pot, a small propane tank and a small cooking stove that could be attached to the propane tank out of our camping closet. I stuffed them all in my bag then grabbed a long piece of plywood and put it on the steps going into the back yard. I walked over to my go-cart, with my backpack on my back, and started it up with the pull start. It sputtered for a bit then started running just like it use to back when I use to use it all the time. I pulled it back and positioned it to go right up the ramp into the back yard. I sat down and pushed down on the gas, it jumped forward and sped for the ramp. I hit the ramp harder than I expected, but was able to get up it into the back yard. I turned it and got onto the road.
As I started to go up the road I realized that the mayor was trying to follow me, and just as I expected, his wife was with him. They were both zombies. I turned right onto Maple Street, and then took the first left onto Grove Street. I could see the city hall just at the end of the road on the square. I continued toward it and was about halfway there when I got pelted by a piece of wood on my shoulder, knocking me off the go-cart. I hit the road and skidded about a foot before I stopped. I let out a scream of pain. I got up on my knees and looked in the direction of where the wood came from. It was another zombie. It started walking toward me, but my go-cart kept rolling forward. It hit the curb and flipped over about twenty feet in front of me, but the zombie was still coming. I had no idea who this person was, but I was sure that anyone who may have been with them was also a zombie.
I didn't want to do it, but I had to shoot them. I pulled up my pistol and took and pointed it at the zombie. I could see the person's eyes and my hands started shaking, I couldn't do it. I couldn't shoot them. The thought of being a murderer ran through my mind and I lowered my gun. I put tucked it back in my belt. The zombie was still walking to me when I heard a yell come from down the street; it was the mayor and his wife. They were coming. Then the reality of an all out zombie attack came to mind. The ever so common question of what I'd do if there were a zombie attack ran through my mind like a broken record player, repeating several times over. Everything I looked at seemed as if it was in slow motion, but it was still a threat to me.
I could shoot the zombies but I could at least save my own life, I ran to my go-cart and got back on it. I took off down the road and pulled into the parking lot of the city hall. I ran to the doors and attempted to open them. They were locked. I started banging on the door and a woman peaked around the corner and yelled, 'Get away zombie! I have a gun!' She actually thought I was a zombie. At that point I realized I wasn't the only person dealing with this problem, it was spreading through the city. I yelled back to her, 'Ma'am, I'm not a zombie! I'm running from the zombies! Let me in! Please! Before they get me!' She ran around the corner and looked at me through the glass door and opened it. 'Come in, hurry before they find out you're here.'
I ran into the door and followed her into the back room of the city hall. I asked her about the gun she had and she pulled one out from behind the desk in the room. It was a twelve-gauge shotgun. The dream I had earlier flashed back in my mind and I noticed that was the same gun I was holding against the oak tree in the park. She held onto it firmly and said, 'So how did you know to come here? I thought I was the only living person in this town.' I looked at her worrying what happened to the other people in that worked here, 'I knew this place would have people in it. But what makes you think you were the only living person left?' She looked down and set her gun on the desk and sat on the seat behind the desk. She took a deep breath and said, 'There were more people here, but they all got attacked early this morning when a zombie came through the front door and attacked the person at the front desk. From there, one after another, people started attacking each other in here. I have read stories of zombies as a child and I knew that only by destroying their brain would they die. I went into the mayor's room and grabbed this shotgun from his gun cabinet. From there I started shooting the heads off every person in this entire building, zombie or not, I didn't want to take any chances. Then I dragged each of them out the back door and laid them on grass in the back yard. I locked all the doors and have been held up here. Earlier today, about eight hours ago, this place was surrounded by zombies. But when a gunshot went off from the northeast, they all started moving that way and abandoned this place. That gave me a hope that I would live through this. I would only have to wait until next Tuesday for everyone to come back into town. I was sure that the gunshot I heard was one of the zombies that got their hands on a gun.' I looked at her and she looked up at me, I pulled my pistol from my belt and said, 'About eight hours ago, I was in the city's scrap yard where I was attacked. I fired a shot at a zombie, killing him. It wasn't a zombie you heard make the shot, it was me.' She looked up at me with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, 'Oh thank God! I thought that one of the zombies had a gun. I could only imagine what one of those monsters would do with a gun.'
She reached for her coat that was hanging on a hat rack next to her desk and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, 'Hey you want one?' I have never smoked before and never really planned to, but the thought of the relaxation that a cigarette would give me just sounded great. I said yes and she tossed me the pack after taking one out herself. I pulled one out as she lit her own cigarette, I set the pack down on the desk and she tossed me the lighter, 'Catch!' I grabbed the lighter out of the air and lit the cigarette. I took in a drag and started coughing, she laughed, 'You don't smoke much do you?' Gagging on the smoke I said, 'This is my first time.' She laid back in her seat and said, 'Well enjoy it, you might not get a chance to have another if this doesn't end well.' I took another drag of the cigarette and it went down much smoother the second time. I actually didn't cough at all that time. Almost immediately a warming sensation ran through my body and I felt calmer than I ever have in the past. I walked back and leaned against the wall of the small room.
The roof was creaking, but the building was old. I finished the cigarette not long after she did. Then I realized, we weren't properly introduced, I didn't even know her name. I stood straight up, getting off the wall, and said, 'So, who are you? What's your name? I'm Edward.' She sat up in her seat, 'I'm Jillian. I was named after my mom, who was named after her mom.' The room got silent, as we had nothing to really talk about, even though our lives as they are now were in jeopardy, we didn't say a word. I started looking around the room, listening to the sounds of the ceiling creek. I started hearing groaning, it sounded like it was coming from outside.
I walked over to the window and looked outside, I could see zombies walking from every direction toward the building. There were about twenty of them, maybe a bit more, but not hundreds like I was expecting. I could hear footsteps on the roof, they were getting in every possible place of the building to find away in. 'They can smell us inside here, they know there is living people in this building.' Jillian said. She pulled out another cigarette and lit it.
Right as she lit it the roof fell in and a zombie came with it, falling right on top of Jillian. She screamed and tried to reach for her shotgun. She was screaming as the zombie was tearing pieces off of her. I watched in horror and pulled my pistol out of my belt. I aimed quickly and took a shot at the zombie, blowing its head off. I went around the desk and noticed the shot went through the zombie and got Jillian right in the center of her head. Her entire face was blown off and all that remained was a puddle of blood on the floor under her body and a huge blood splatter on the wall. I was horrified by the fact that I just killed someone that I was talking to just moments before. I was too afraid to stay there at the city hall with the building being breached as quickly as it was. I grabbed her gun, a box of shells on her cabinet, her pack of cigarettes and her lighter and took off to the front door.
I looked around the corner and noticed the zombies were swarming the front door, there was no escape from these things. I ran back into the room I was in and climbed up the broken wood up and out of the top of the building. Apparently that one zombie that was there was the only one that got to the roof. From the roof I could see every angle from which the zombies were coming, but I could see a small opening. I knew if I wanted any chance at survival I would have to take it now and jump from the roof, then run through the opening in the crowd of zombies.
I took a leap off the roof, falling about twelve feet to the ground and hit the ground rolling. I jumped back up and started sprinting through the opening. In no time I got through it and ran up the street. Ignoring the fact that I was being pursued but a lot of zombies, I ran into an alleyway with a large dumpster in it. I realized that this is the same alleyway that my brother was attacked in. I could hear the groans of the zombies coming my way, so I jumped in the dumpster and closed the heavy metal lid. I could hear them walking past the alleyway from inside the dumpster. The smell of the trash inside of it was horrible, but it was masking my scent from the zombies.
I waited for what seemed like hours until I couldn't hear the footsteps and groans of the zombies anymore. I lifted the lid to take a peak and noticed it was dark outside. I had no idea what time it was, but this was my opportunity to rest. I laid on the bags of trash and drifted off.
This was yet another bad night of sleep, I didn't dream much but I couldn't seem to stay asleep. I don't know if it was the smell, or the fact that I could end up dying. I eventually woke up, seeing a bit of light shine through the cracks of the dumpster, I knew the sun had rose.
I lifted the lid and crawled out of the trashcan. I looked around the corners of the alleyway trying to see if there were any zombies nearby, I didn't see any. But I was too afraid to go out there, if one of them saw me, they all saw me and that would be the end. So I went behind the trashcan and sat down.
This is where I am now and I don't know what to do. This journal of mine doesn't seem to be getting anywhere, I have been writing all morning about my experiences in these last few days. And I still don't know why, I still can't figure out why I didn't just kill my brother when I had the chance. It could have saved the entire city. It would only be a few days before the rest of the city came back home and everyone gets infected. I couldn't deal with killing an entire city of people. There was a very cold draft coming through the alley, I started to shiver.
I stood up and walked out of the alley. I knew that whether I died or not, I wouldn't be able to live my life the same way again. I have been scarred mentally for life and it seemed that nothing could repair a wound like this. Everyone says that time heals all wounds, but something like this can't be healed. I went from a regular schoolboy who enjoyed playing with his friends on the weekends to being a gun-wielding killer just a few days later. Even if I did live, nobody would believe me that zombies invaded the city making me have to kill them. I would be tried in court for several cases of murder. I hope Jillian is happy, she got out of it easy because of me. But now I'm stuck here with her gun and the thought of being ripped limb by limb until the zombies kill me.
I walked out of the alleyway with tears rolling down my cheeks and yelled, 'Come get me! I'm right here! Rid me of these memories!' I started turning and looking to see if anything was coming, but nothing. I looked around a little more and yelled again, 'Come on you bastards! Come kill me!' I stopped and listened and heard a yell come from down the road. I looked in that direction and a swarm of zombies was running toward. My eyes widened as the reality of death came to mind, I took off running down the road and ran by the city park. I refused to go there only because of my dream; I knew going there would basically be signing my own death warrant.
I turned down the road to see more zombies coming, I turned around and even more were coming. They were coming from every possible road and my only exit was through the park. I ran and jumped the fence into the city park. I went to the center of the park, planning fighting them off from there. I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Just an open space. I started looking around and noticed the big oak tree right behind me. Then my dream flashed back in my head, the image of me shooting everyone with this shotgun then somehow dying myself. But I wasn't going to let that happen, I took a stand by the tree. The zombies started emerging from the tree line and I started unloaded shots, one after another, the zombies fell to the ground. But after just four shots I ran out of ammo, I set it against the oak tree and pulled my pistol. I unloaded a full clip and killed eight more zombies. I picked up the shotgun and loaded four more shots into it from the ammo box I grabbed. I looked around and blew away three zombies coming from behind and noticed no more were coming.
I got an overwhelming feeling of sadness and anger come over me and broke down, I started crying right there. I could hear more zombies coming but at that point I didn't care anymore. I wasn't going to accept my fate of getting mauled to death by a bunch of zombies. I still don't know why I'm writing in this journal of mine, I guess I'm addicted to it. Just writing every possible thing that happens to me, but this will be the last time I write in it. If anyone finds this journal, I want to apologize to anyone I may have disappointed in the past. I want to say sorry to my brother for what happened to him and sorry to my great grandmother who warned me, but I ignored her warning.
That was the last time Edward Scarth was ever seen again. As soon as he killed himself by the same gun that killed his own father, the zombies swarmed his body and ate his remains. Every bit of his, bones and all, were consumed by the zombies. As for the rest of the city folk, well lets just say when they got back to town, the had a horrible case of zombie fever, leading to the death of all human life at it was.