Everyone for Themselves

Chapter 8

A/N: I'd just like to apologize for not releasing any chapters in a while; It has not been my best week. ;) I hope you enjoy this chapter. It should be good enough.

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January 11th, 1991  

Eric's P.O.V

Dear Journal, I'll be Ok. I'll be Ok. I'll be Ok. If I keep telling myself that, maybe it will happen. Maybe.

I read the entry before this... The murderer's, I mean... and it's gotten me more freaked out than listening to the others call me insane. You know what? Maybe I AM going insane, but it's none of your business! Maybe I should say that to them. Just because I sit in that corner all day, doesn't mean I'm insane. And I've ALWAYS talked to myself. I would say to ask Roberto, but no. HE won't tell you. He barely even knows I exist. I wish he knew that zombies aren't really real. But... I have to admit that if they were, and he got his hands on a shotgun or an AK-47 or something, this world might have a chance after all.

So anyway, I know the others will HATE me for this when I die (it's all their fault, really), but I'm going to broadcast the things that have been going on in the boy's cabin.  So there I was, sitting in my corner thing, and listening to the others have a conversation.

"Guys, we HAVE to figure out who this murderer is! It's totally freaking me out, and they've already killed someone here! In THIS room!" I didn't recognize any of their voices. I don't know anyone yet, and, when the time comes to learn their names, I doubt I'll look forward to it.

"Yeah. We all HAVE to promise it isn't any of us."

"It's not ME, man. I'm freakin' scared."

"Dude, we all are."

"Obviously it's a girl..."

"Apparently so. Who do you think it is?"

"I think it's Olivia. Everyone else thinks so."

"Yeah, she's been acting really weird. Like, SERIOUSLY weird."

"Yeah, and her friend Violet seems scared of her. Can you tell?"

"I think we all can."

"Uh huh. Wish we could read what the murderer wrote in that journal. Heard they wrote something."

"Yeah, but that idiot, Eric, is freakin' hogging it."

"Dude, it's his!"

"Yeah, cause he's gonna die next!"

Laughter.

"Totally, man. What a wimp. Hope he gets murdered next."

"You guys know he can hear you, right?"

"So? I hope he does! He'll get murdered by a girl and won't even put up a fight!"

More laughter.

I started to glare at the wall, my face feeling strangely hot.

"Guys, maybe he IS the murderer, and you're just making him madder!"

"Yeah right! Him?! A murderer?! Don't make me laugh! Oh wait. You already did!"

"Guys, chill, Ok?"

"No! I will not CHILL! I want that Eric dude to come over and FIGHT ME!"

I couldn't help it. I stood up. "FINE!"

I heard everyone gasp; I don't think anyone expected me to come out of my "little corner". But you know what? I had. And they had to deal with it. And face the consequences of it, too.

I turned to face the one who had challenged me. My stomach turned as I saw who it was... It was Paul, a look of determination and fury on his face. "Let's do this, man."

I gulped, but anger had become a more part of me than fear now. We advanced on each other quickly, not even thinking. Not even considering. Paul was the first to make his move. A huge fist, aiming right for my face. I ducked though, a bit surprised by his sudden movement. But I regained my senses quickly. Then I lunged at him, aiming for his stomach. It thankfully worked; I knocked him right over. He lay there, stunned for a moment, then stuck out his foot... And tripped me. Classic.

He jumped up as I landed and sprung on top of me, and I howled in pain as he twisted my arm back, all the while smiling triumphantly. I kicked him in the back with my loose foot (that he WASN'T squashing,) and as soon as he loosened his grip, I took my chance.

I wiggled out from under him and pushed him over. He thudded to the ground, but got up quickly. My rage had gotten the best of me now. And only Roberto knows what I do when I get angry. I loose control. And that's what I did.

Curling my hand into a fist, I aimed for his chin, and fired. He fell, then, blood spattering everywhere. His eyes fluttered closed, and I thought that he had gotten knocked out. He fell, went limp, and just lay there. And didn't get up again.

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Trent's Comments: Well, that was fun to read.