~the undead Diaries~ (re-editing!!)

the start to disaster

Chapter One Diary entry one

Dear diary, it all happened too fast, and I didn't know what to do. Mom and Dad are gone. I need to figure out where to go or who to trust, all I know is I must protect Brodey

Even if it costs a life.
~Zilla out

As we drove along the quiet road, the sudden thud reverberated through the car; someone had violently slammed into the side. "What the heck was that?!" Mom's voice pierced the air, filled with a panic I had never heard from her before. Her usual calm demeanor was shattered, a clear sign that something was terribly wrong. Glancing nervously at Dad, Brodey asked, "Dad, what is going on? Why did that man do that?" His voice trembled, reflecting the fear that was bubbling within all of us. I could feel his hand quiver in mine, so I squeezed it tightly, hoping to offer him some semblance of reassurance.

Dad's eyes were wide, betraying the worry he was trying to mask. "I don't know; I'm just as confused as you are," he admitted. Even though he tried to maintain a steady façade, I could see the anxiety flickering behind his calm exterior. He paused for a brief moment, scanning the surroundings, and then his voice took on an urgent tone. "OK, grab whatever you can without falling behind, and run!" He pushed us toward the door, a sense of determination overriding his fear.

With a racing heart, I flung the door open and burst out into the chaos. The cool air hit my face as I quickly scanned the backseat for my belongings. My suitcase was right by my feet, along with my diary, a few treasured books, and whatever else I could grab that might help me defend myself. Each item felt heavy in my hands as I stuffed them into my arms.

"Honey, I'm scared, what is going on?" Mom's voice trembled, and I could see her fighting to maintain her composure while the situation spiraled into something unimaginable. The world around us began to blur in the chaos of uncertainty, and the only thing that felt real was the pounding of my heart and the instinct to survive.
As Mom said, one of those things ran at her. Dad pushed whatever it was away, and we kept running. "Dad, they have bite marks on their bodies and they are running around like zombies. Do you think they are some kind of risen-from-the-dead thing?" I wanted to say that they might be zombies, but to my dad, those things were just myths, pure fiction, fake.

"Honey...honey," Mom's voice sounded sad and scared; it worried me. "Mom, what's wrong?" I knew my voice was barely audible but tried to talk without crying. "Sweetie, what's wrong? Why are you shaking?" Dad was concerned. "One of those things bit me, what do I do?" Mom lifted her arm, and there it was, a reddish, purple, black bite mark on her lower shoulder. When she looked back at Dad from her shoulder, her eyes rolled back, and she fell to the floor. Before she could hit the floor, Dad caught her. "Honey, wake up, baby, wake up, please. WAKE UP!" Dad was yelling. I tried to calm him down by telling him to be quiet, but he wouldn't listen. Mom started to shake, almost like she was having a seizure. "Dad, what's happening to Mom? Why is she shaking? Is she dead?"
Brodey was sobbing uncontrollably at this point, his cries echoing in the cramped room and amplifying the anxiety that already twisted in my stomach. My dad's anger radiated like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive, casting a shadow over everything. I couldn't shake the thought that we were living in a nightmare straight out of "The Walking Dead." In the show, they always portrayed the undead as having heightened senses, particularly their hearing, making them easily startled by even the slightest sound. The idea of that sent a chill down my spine.

With Brodey wailing and Dad's angry shouts filling the air, every little noise seemed magnified, and I couldn't help but feel we were drawing unwanted attention. The thought of my mother, once vibrant and full of life, now possibly on the verge of becoming one of those terrifying creatures, sent shivers through me and heightened my fear. It was hard to believe that our family dynamic had shifted so drastically. Instead of comfort, there was chaos, and I could feel my heart racing as dread enveloped me.

"Dad we need to go, mom is turning to them and it isn't good. Please, I know what to do. We need to go, NOW!!" with all of us talking, the zombies started to run towards us. One ran at me but I grabbed my knife and stabbed it in the head. I knew that is where you need to hit them since the brain is where everything works. " Why do you have a knife? Why did you kill that man!?" Brodey was scared. And I didn't know what to do. Either I grab Brodey, run away from Mom and Dad, and leave Dad with Mom. Or I slap Dad out of it and run with all of them. But that is taking the risk of waiting longer, and the risk of Dad wanting to take Mom with us. She would be dead weight though and would drag us down. That is not what we need at the moment. We just need to run.
"Just go," Dad urged, his voice steady but filled with emotion. He gently placed one hand on my cheek and the other on Brodey's, drawing us in close. "I can't bear the thought of you living in a world without your mother. You need to get to your grandparents' house as fast as you can. If they're there when you arrive, tell them that... we didn't make it. It's important they know they need to take care of you now."

He paused, as if gathering strength for what he would say next. "If they aren't there, or if something has happened to them, you have to be ready to run. Find shelter, seek out a group of people who can help you. You're stronger than you think, and you can survive this."

"Zilla, remember what I always said, if you can't find safety, use your books. There's knowledge there; find supplies, weapons if you can, anything that can aid you in this fight for survival. Your mother... she never got to say goodbye, and I'm doing this for her—and for you both. You are everything to us. We love you with the entirety of the cosmos behind us. You are the moons orbiting our planets, central to our existence."