He couldn't help but replay the scene in his head over and over. The thudding on the door, the growling. He was the youngest of them, his mother and his older brother; it was his fault.
"Ryan, go lock your door and hide!" his mother told him sternly.
His brother gave him a look then went for the door. As it began to swing open he ran upstairs, obeying his mother.
Right after he entered his room, Ryan quietly shut the door and locked it, then he hide behind his dresser.
He hid when they needed him, like the child he had been.
They had opened the door by now, he couldn't see anything but it sure sounded like there was a lot of them.
He relived it in such a vivid way, thier screams pierced his ears so suddenly.
He wished he would have gone earlier, he should have gone earlier; but Ryan couldn't control his actions anymore. Not for this, it was too late.
Ryan could once again feel his fear.
He'd stayed in his room a minute maybe even two after hearing his family.
Then he got up, he could stay no longer, he unlocked the door, a cadaver tried to crawl up the stairs; how had it gotten past them? Ryan stepped swiftly towards it, removing his knife from his tool belt. He jammed it into the corpse's skull, getting the one they missed.
But it wasn't the only one they missed, he knew this well by now.
Ryan wanted not to but he continued down the stairs he proceeded almost unknowingly.
Breath eluded him suddenly as his foot left the last steep. His mother lie on the ground trying to catch her own breath whilst cadavers tore his brothers flesh from the collective bleeding mound of his body. Ryan began to hyperventilate,
"Mom," he called softly, that being all he could manage.
The way she looked at him, her eyes he would never forget; he wanted to forget.
She was bawling her eyes wet and full of sorrow, fear, and anger all at once. Ryan did all he could not to do the same right then, it took everything.
He picked his shotgun back up and pumped it, his eyes involuntarily tearing; his shaking hands raised it to eye level and his stiff finger pulled the trigger. He sent a cold metal bullet right through his brother's head; Ryan simply could not stand to leave him suffering the way he'd been . Then he pumped it again and one at a time shot the living corpses surrounding his older brother.
After his round of six shots he stepped back onto the stairs to reload, to take care of the rest of them.
He found reality an instant then slipped back into his terrible remembrance.
Ryan had asked his mother if she was okay; she had told him she was, she had lied.
The next thing he knew she had went outside, preceding the sound of the fatal gunshot.
After that vision he was back to his physical place. He didn't save them, he couldn't save them; but that was just how it happened and it couldn't be changed.
He could only do what was possible now; for his new group. People that were his to look after, and he could no longer maintain this state of mind if he was to protect their them and keep his small bit of sanity.
