Mute

Alone?

Before the apocalypse...
    Right after I graduated, I joined the army. I mainly joined so I could get away from home. I was in the army for over ten years then had to fly home because of the virus. I walked through the door to get my brother. I walked into the living room to see both of my parents laying on the floor, blood covering them. I froze in shock when I realized that they had shot themselves. I walked into my brother room balled up crying in the floor.

         2 months later

In the beginning, I was with my brother, Remy. We had a little camp set up for a little. Now usually we don't even set up camp. We never really stayed in one place for long. But, Remy was sick and could barely hold his own weight. So we were forced to camp for about a week. One night while Remy and I were sleeping a group came into our camp. They took our food, water, weapons, and... my brother's life. They saw that he was sick a killed him, right in front of me. Remy was the only person I actually talked to and cared for. Somehow I escaped the group and ran into the woods. The only things they didn't get were my throwing knives, hunting knife, handgun, my brother's necklace and leather jacket. Anger filled me, the only thing that was flowing through my mind was killing those men. After a couple of hours I when back and followed their footprints. I tracked them down and saw they had a small group of about 4 or 5 people. I knew I wouldn't be able to kill them by walking in there so I climbed a tall tree and from there I took out all the men. One by one they fell to the group. I didn't shoot them in the head, I wanted them to turn so they could suffer, like my brother so they could always live with what they did.

A year later

Right now, I'm camping in a little cabin I found in the woods. I got up and got ready for the day. I fixed the necklace, that my brother once wore, and my dog tag that hung around my neck. I put my gun into my hip holster, and do the same with my knife. I throw my jacket on and grab my throwing knives. I was about to walk out the door when I noticed a notebook laying in the window seal. 'I could use that' I thought to myself as I grabbed the notebook and a pen. I walk out the door and look back a the cabin. I know I'm not coming back, it was already too risky staying there for about three days. So now I'm on the move to find food and a good spot to camp.

A few hours later
I've been walking for a while and I've got a few rabbits and squirrels from my throwing knives. I was walking and I got a bad feeling. I felt like something bad was gonna happen. I always get that feeling so I just ignored it. Even though I tried to drown that feeling, it kept coming back. I made sure my footsteps were quiet and tried to listen to any noise that could be from behind me. I heard a twig snap and I drew my gun, turned around, and pointed my gun toward the sound. When I focused my eyes on what I was aiming at, I saw a tall man with long hair and facial hair. He was aiming his crossbow at my head. "Who the hell are ya?" he says in a deep Southern accent. I take a few seconds to examine the man. He looked dirty, he had eye bags like he hasn't slept in days. I could tell he wasn't going to shoot unless I gave him a reason to. I lowered my gun and put it on the ground. I reach into my pocket slowly to grab my note. -I'm Vivian, I'm just out here hunting- I write on the paper and show him. He lowers his bow "Can ya hear me?" he asked me, I nod my head yes. "Ya got a group?" he asked me as he took a step closer. - by myself from the start- I write and show him. "How many walkers have you killed?" he asked me. I gave him a questionable look -How the hell am I supposed to know- I write and show him. He sighs " How many people have you killed?" he asked me and I froze. I stood there for a moment thinking about if I should tell him or not. - 5 people- I write and he leaned in to look and took a step back. "Why?" he asked me. - they killed my brother- I write and he looks over my hand. " We got a camp. Food, water, supplies, and lots of people," he tells me and my eyes widen in happiness and fear. "We can get your stuff and you can follow me back to camp." I was about to nod my head but I froze. 'People? I can't trust them. What if it happens again? I can't go through that pain again. ' I think to myself and I take a step back from the man. -I can't go- I write and show him. "Alright, I was trying to be nice," he says with an attitude and walks away.

           After a few hours

     I decided to go back to the cabin and stay for a bit longer. They don't know where the cabin is and if the others are like that man, I think I'll be safe. I clean off my knives and skin one of my rabbits. I cooked, ate then I went to sleep. I've been staying at the cabin for a couple of days now. I was sleeping on the couch when I heard a bang on my door. I shot up and grabbed my gun. I walk over to the window and see the man standing away from the cabin. 'How the hell did he find me?' I think to myself and open the door. I look down to the porch deck and see a bottle of water at my feet. "I brought ya water," he tells me and I look at him confused. I close the door to grab my notebook and pen and walk back outside. - I don't need you to bring me stuff. I don't want people to know I'm here. Don't tell anyone I'm here-  I quickly write and hand him the notebook. As he reads it, his face softens for a second then he tenses back up. "Well don't come trying to find me when you need help. Cause I won't help ya," he says in anger, handing my notebook back to me. My body tenses up and I stare at the man. He turns around and walks back the way he came from. I grab the water bottle and go back into my cabin. 'Why did he get so mad at me? I mean I don't care about him but it doesn't make sense that he got so angry for no reason.

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1238 Words
I hope you like this story! You can tell me if there are any issues with my spelling or grammar.