So yah, my life is ruff, but what can you do about it? Let's get on with my story and where I'm at now. This plague, it's been around for a couple years now. Maybe three? Maybe more, I don't know anymore. I lived in a small town, Wilmington. That town was destroyed in the nukes, making a major part of the forsaken. Now there you have it, my life on a silver platter. From here on out it is me and everything I experience. This is my life.
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The house I was camping out in was rusted and smelled of the zoms, decaying, bodies. I suddenly heard a noise upstairs in the attic. I pulled my katana out and started up the stairs. The stairs creeked as I steped over them, almost seeming as if I'd fall through at any given moment. As I made it up the stairs I rounded the corner. There was a room to the right with a closed door and a very mighty odor coming from it. As I opened the door there was a group of about five zoms.
"Shit!" I said aloud as they suddenly noticed my presence and quickly for up. I slammed the door shut and put my back to it. As I did I turned around and came face-to-face with a barrel of a gun.
