001. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫

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I sigh hopelessly, the booksack at my feet appearing almost empty of supplies. I stare down at the dirty fabric- a symbol of my exasperatedly endless efforts that all end in anger and empty-handedness.

The bag slips from between my fingertips, softly sinking to the floor. I climb to my tender feet, trying to ignore the anger that's brewing in my chest at the almost empty bag. My body aches with exhaustion, my head pounding from dehydration and lack of rest. I run my hand over the dust-coated shelf of the desk. This was the last room of the small middle school I had to search- the back buildings weren't an option. The courtyard was flooded with staggering ghouls and limp, rotting bodies.

 I was continuing my hopeless trek to nowhere when I spotted it; a brick building with the moans and groans of the lifeless singing behind its walls.  There was one option- 2 options, but only 1 stupid one. The sensible, is to keep walking and avoid the death trap. But, I am known to be a stupid person. When there's nothing important to lose, you always take any opportunity. You never know what can change.

I dragged myself up and over the chain link fence, the handle of my axe clinking against the cold metal. I hoped with everything in me that this school would hold some sort of provision. Peaked through the windows, searching for any sign of life- or the undead.

I got in through a cracked window on the west side of the building. The one closest to the woods- closest to my sanctuary of concealment.

All it took was the handle of my axe to the already damaged glass. It splintered, forming a spiderweb. I grunt, gripping the handle between my callused hands. I swung once again; the glass cracked more. One more blow to the corner before the glass came raining down, dancing under the horrid heat of the late afternoon sun.

The first thing I find is a map of the school framed on the wall. You Are Here! is printed next to an arrow. It pointed towards a small section between two classrooms, just a mere couple of feet away from the broken window. There were eight rooms on the west side of the building; four rooms on each side, facing each other perfectly.

There were two science labs, where I found a half-empty first aid kit. The only things left are an elastic bandage, two packs of burn gel, and a pair of tweezers.

An art room, where I gazed longingly at all the clean canvases, gallons of paint and hundreds of brushes. If I had a means of transportation, I would have stolen each and every item from that room just to be able to sit alone and fingerpaint.

The remaining five rooms were classrooms, where I accumulated more ink pens and bandages than I could count. To my chagrin, they were void of anything helpful or important; nothing but discarded science textbooks and countless pieces of paper with discarded rough drafts of essays and math problems. Large chalkboards with smeared writing and chairs thrown across the rooms.

There was a bathroom with graffiti on the stall walls, where I ripped open the toilet paper holders to take the large wheels of toilet tissue. Not a necessity, but most definitely needed. I ended up with just one after checking both the girl's and boy's bathrooms, the one in the teacher's lounge, and the janitor's closet, where I put down a stray ghoul. The teacher's lounge held a table, a microwave, a refrigerator, and two empty vending machines.

There was a lobby connecting the west and east sides of the building. The principal and receptionist's offices were tucked away at the front near the door; across, was a large trophy case filled to the brim with photographs and awards for their science and 4-H clubs. The offices were empty- that's if you exclude countless binders, filled to the brim with phone numbers and emergency information.

The mixture of the frigid, February air and the eerie emptiness of the school sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine. What should be full of loud, energetic children is now empty of any living bodies. Just myself.

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