Escape

Chapter 1: A whole LOT of issues!

                            It was Lunch time. I could tell by everyone drawn to “the box”, it holds the food. Cameron had to literally push everyone back if we were to have anything.

    “Get back!” He growled, “I’m not kidding! Holly if you don’t keep your hands to yourself I swear I’ll chop them off!”    

                    Cameron’s booming voice and dangerous look is probably why the adults appointed him as keeper of food. Holly stepped back for a second than returned to squabbling for food. All in all there were twelve hungry children trying to get their fill from what the adults had left for us. As for me, I don’t eat much, which is a good trait to have if your surviving in this world.

                  After about fifteen minutes of the squabble, everyone dispersed. Leaving me to see what was left. It was of no surprise to me when I saw nothing.

    “Missed out again did you?” Cameron asked.

                  I nodded, not saying much or looking at him. He wasn’t family to me. He was a friend of a cousin, therefore not to be trusted.

    “Not a talkative one are you? You know I’ve never caught your name before and yet I see you every day. Not that you make any attempt to socialize with anyone at all” He smirked.

                  I didn’t care. I just rolled my eyes and walked away. It’s true I didn’t socialize but that’s because making friends is a dangerous move, people are not to be trusted. Plus if you lose a friend and they turn into a zombie, I’m sure that would pretty much destroy you inside.

                Glancing to my left I see Holly. Red hair, green eyes, She’d look like your typical innocent school girl, if it wasn’t for the deadly look in her eyes. Only eleven and she’s already killed. Not zombie but her own sibling two months earlier over some food, so she ate alone in her dark little corner.

               A few steps away and you find Bazel, my cousin. He’s not exactly the smartest person alive. Almost got himself eaten when he started screaming over a sprained ankle. He’d always surround himself with others, he is constantly paranoid. Bazel didn’t look like a hypocrite though. Shaggy blond hair, pale blue eyes, he looked more like a surfer boy than anything. He gave me a quick wave as he noticed me staring. I grimaced and kept moving trying not to interact with anyone.

              The basement, on which we depended on to keep us safe, was quiet big. It had at least five rooms. The adults in one. The children in another. My mother and father (who were like the leaders) got their own room. The food was kept in the other and the rest was for anyone who needed to vent or be alone the other rooms were for them. There was no bed, just the hard floor. There were no showers, just a limited supply of water and as for a toilet, there’s always a bucket.

               As for “girly needs” pads were made by the adults, using cloth, with which you have to clean yourself. That may seem gross but its survival and what doesn’t kill you, screws up your life.

              I don’t plan to die anytime soon. No, I’m too tough for that. Plus it does make your life interesting, in a sick twisted way.

    “Hey! Hey!” I hear someone shout behind me. I glance around, hoping they had made a mistake and would leave me alone but it was unfortunately addressed to me. Cameron had ran up behind me, in no doubt an effort to communicate with me some more.