In the end

In the beginning

Most people have an origin story or a background. Well this is mine. It all started when I was 15 and like most teenage girls I was obsessed with one thing and one thing only. My looks. I was on the heavier side and so I was obsessed with my weight.
I've always been a chunky girl but even though I wasn't the heaviest girl I still felt like it. I was loosing weight and then gaining it again like it was nothing. Looking back now I guess I should have cared about other things.
But I always thought maybe if I dropped from 180 to 160 people would like me more and I would be popular instead of a loser. I was a reject. But I did have a few good friends and then some acquaintances who only used me as someone to look good standing next to.
No matter what I was always trying to change how I looked. I dyed my hair all the time and I had both of my ears fully pierced along with a septum and an eyebrow piercing. The day the world went to shit it felt completely normal.
I was at a doctors appointment and wanted nothing more than to go home. We were waiting in the waiting room when everything started to go crazy. I remember my mom grabbing my arm and dragging me to the car. We tried getting home to my dad and my brother but we couldn't.
We had planned to meet up at the airport and that's were we all found each other. We waited there for a few days before we started placing everything together. Pretty soon we started to adapt. I of course couldn't even kill one of those things but my family was really good at it.
I mean I wasn't totally useless I had gotten good at strategy and rationing out the food. We weren't alone there were a few other families there but I still never really talked to anyone. Then it just got worse. It had probably been about 5 months since it all started when a hoard of them broke into the airport.
The first to go were the smith family I watched as there daughter Sarah who I sat next to in history class got her face torn off. The rest fell soon after. Until it was just me and my family. We managed to get out of the airport and drive about a few miles out before the car broke down.
We hid in a near by gas station but it wasn't enough. They got in. My mom and me got separated from my brother and father. I watched my mom get torn apart and I couldn't save her. I then took her gun and went after my brother and father. They were still alive. Just as I reached them my dad gets shot through the chest.
Me and my brother go and hide in the bathroom. While he's crying I'm to scared to even shed a tear. We watched as they looked around for us but just as they went to leave one of them got grabbed and a chunk got torn out of their neck. It was my dad. And that's when we figured out that no matter how you die unless it's straight through the brain you turn.
Me and my brother were alone for months until he died. It was while we were separated it wasn't from a zombie but from the same people who killed my father. They were the first people I killed. I was alone for a long time.
I eventually got really good at survival. I met a lot of people and killed a lot of people and the dead. But I still never cried. Not a single tear. Years went by and that's were we are today. I live with a little girl who I ended up taking in about 2 years ago. Now that we're all caught up the story will actually begin.

(I know this was a short chapter but I just wanted a brief intro to everything that happened so nobody is confused in the next chapter.)