I sat at my window, watching as the bombs dropped in Atlanta. My Apartment was dark and cold, echoing the sound of chaos. The sky reflecting this apocalyptic world in its orange glow. No stars shined, and no moon showed. As though time was non existent. It was no longer 11pm on a Tuesday night. Time is now perceived as only this moment.
No man nor woman could prevent this. We were all damned from the second we woke up yesterday morning.
"It's nothin'!" Men would say in their southern accents, with their chipped teeth. Their breath smelling of liquor. They were so full of pride it blinded them.
Men filled my life, not in a way most would want them to. I am surrounded by pure arrogance, yet it never got me.
But here I was? Sitting in this damn chair watching the world end and people go by. As if it was a normal sight. Was it? Had my world been ending this whole time, and I just had never noticed? Had the men in my life, stupid ways of perceiving life finally catch up to me? That "turn a blind eye", mindset?
I began to pick at my lip in frustration with my stupidity and stood quickly with a frustrated sigh. I hate stupid people.
"This would get me killed." I argued to myself, pacing my small apartment in a blur. All my supplies laid out already, ready to be used by the woman who had neglected them. I eyed them impatiently, picking at my thumbs.
"Fuck it." I muttered, yanking at my hair. I walked over to the kitchen counter and lit my cigarette. I always told myself I'd never be like my dad, yet here I was. Smoking everything away.
I stuffed all my shit in my army bag, with my cig hanging on the side of my mouth.
I grabbed my pistol and shoved it in my pants, throwing my stuffed bag over my shoulder. I winced as my bruised knuckles brushed against it. I wiped my now bloody fingertips against my face, and turned my head to my door. Out there waiting for me was a world too far gone. Yet I walked, I walked towards it. Out into the world. I kicked open my door.
I looked down the sides of the hallway, looking for any signs of the dead.
I crouched and hustled my way to the stairs. The sky's orange light lit up the stairwell as I proceeded down. I flinched and tucked behind a corner as I heard the sound of groaning.
Infected.
"Shit!" I muttered to my self, my cig still burning. I took my cig and put it out on my arm, wincing at its burn. Nothing I wasn't used to.
I need to focus.
I grabbed my gun, and slowly moved towards the sound. I peeked down the stairs to be met with quite the sight.
It was my neighbor Anne. She was old and had a beautiful family. Its people like this who I wish had infinite lives.
I froze for a second at her torn face, my throat forming a lump as I stared.
So,
I raised my gun.
Took my aim.
And I shot her.
I shot Anne.
The woman who was there for everyone, who had the most beautiful family,
I killed her.
