Unexpected visitors

Prologue

I clasp my steaming hot mug of tea closely to my chest as I watch this blonde haired women walk around my living room, taking every step carefully but assertively making me feel as If I am the visitor of my own home. "What do you want ?" That must of came off a bit rude since I don't know who she is but she lets it slide, thankfully. "I have some bad news". I take my tea, place it down and twiddle my thumbs, it's always been a bad habit ever since middle school when I got in trouble I would do it to occupy myself just so I wouldn't have to listen to the awful ramblings of the teacher that was trying to tell me off. The woman practically threw herself next to me on my brown leather couch, I didn't feel comfortable about how close she was getting but I allowed it since she was looking so distressed. It's getting late and I don't want her to stay the night so I might as well have forced her to tell me because it took her so long to stop stalling and tell me what she needed to. She sighs and flicks her golden locks out of the way of her eyes "I'm so sorry". I'm getting angry now and start to shout "tell me I'm starting to worry, what is it". "There was a horrific explosion at your sisters work today ... There were no survivors." I start to shake, tremble and not function properly."TELL ME THIS IS A JOKE... please." The thing I feel now the most is pain we were always close my sister and I, always together and I can't help but start to blame myself. The woman looks at me with pity, no sympathy, like a child. She begins to speak but I cut her off. "I think you should leave" I mumble. "Ok, here's my number I'm always here to talk if you need someone, I'll let myself out." Finally she's gone. It was my fault, it was my fault, she was I'll and I persuaded her to go to work. Everything turns blurry and I wallow in my self despair as the tears roll down my cheeks, each tear more painful than the next, it's unbearable. She hated me when she died, I knew I should of just said sorry, she wouldn't of hated me, we would of been ok but now she's dead. A few months roll around and I'm still not up to visiting Tory's grave but it's what she would of wanted, no tears not now I have to be strong for her at least. The resting place was chosen and put under a weeping willow tree, her favourite tree. My eyes are burning but I manage to squeeze back the tears, barely. I start to tremble but it's not just me it's everything, the trees, the people, the ground, it's the ground, I look down it's shaking uncontrollably. It can't be a earthquake the shaking is too small,this is not right. I hear groans and the soil from beneath me moves, I shriek in horror of what lies before me, a gruesome hand, something that looks like it should be on the Walking Dead and that's when I realise they are the walking dead.