217 Days.

I pace the small bathroom in mindless, almost robotic movements. From the room’s east wall, to it’s west wall, I struggle to hold myself together. What happened in the last seven months? How could the world have gone to shit in no less than a year? What am I going to do to survive? The questions I silently ask myself are endless. They always have been, ever since the day when it all happened. The questions always buzzing around in my head have become a personal mantra.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad. I mean, the questions have always been there, floating in the back of my self conscious, where nobody ever cares enough to look, but they rarely ever managed to get a hold of me like they are now. Right now,  I feel my mind beginning to barrel out of my control, like a plane with its engine stalling. It wasn’t like this, not in the beginning. In the beginning, my mind wasn’t my worst enemy, but now? Now, I don’t know. Maybe it would be best to just let the madness take over. It seems like that’s what everyone else decided to do.

Everyone seems to have lost all sense of self control and morality, or else they just don’t care about it anymore. Does it make a difference how they did it? I suppose it really doesn’t matter. Mentally stable or not, the only people who come out on top in this world are those who are prepared to risk it all. You can’t survive without expecting the unexpected anymore. I guess Darwin had it right with his “Survival of the fittest” and what-not. Wait? Was that how it has always been? I guess it was. This philosophy is pretty interchangeable. Life continues as it was and always will, even in a world like this. I’m just one of the pawns in this new world, even if I’m not the strongest piece on the board. Diversity is a necessary evil, even now.

Ah, yes. Diversity. It seems that the most basic form of the word in this world can be defined as: the difference between those who can control their basic urges, and those who can’t. I believe I’m the former, although that’s probably still up to debate for those who I have managed to fuck over. And I’ve managed to fuck over a lot of people, probably more than I should have. But like I said: Survival of the fittest.

Okay, in my defense, I’ve saved people too. Okay, maybe in reality, you can say my involvement led to several of their untimely deaths. It was in thanks to my unimaginable heroism wasn’t it? I saved them. Isn’t that what counts? No? Alright, whatever. That’s your opinion. I’ve made it this far, and in my eyes, that’s quite the accomplishment. Not many people could say they made it seven months into this nightmare. And those who have, probably aren’t likely to still be able to function with some sort of morality, even if that morality is on its last stretch before it runs itself into the ground.

I think my morality is still in fairly good shape. I still can tell the difference between right and wrong. The problem lies in listening to myself. The thin line in this world between should I listen to my heart or my instincts?

I find that some things seem to work out if you do everything in moderation. Not all things, but some things...

My name is Alex River. I'm an average 17 year-old, going into my junior year in high school. Don't let my mental unstability fool you either, I used to be quite the popular guy. Yeah, I had a whopping total of three whole friends. No, saying I had three was pushing it, because they hardly counted as friends. I feel comfortable with the words "distant acqaintances". My interests include video games and television, Anime and Manga, and of course, wasting my time on the internet.  Yes, I agree. I led a very active lifestyle, before shit hit the fan.

Seven months ago, it happened. The pandemic hit. A strange virus. Symptoms included various body aches, leaking of every type bodily fluid you can think of, and of course, that unquenchable hunger for human flesh. At first, it spread through the air, but that only infected those with weak immune systems. They were the hosts. Then when the initial carriers decided to feast on the unsuspecting victoms around them, the virus matured, evolved, to transmit through the mucous and saliva in out mouths. Now everyone on earth is infected. Whether or not you're undead or not, you carry the disease. When you die, you're pretty much guaranteed a chance to respawn, unless some ugly bastard decides to crush your skull.

Major cities struggled at first, then in the rush to evacuate, the disease spread. And spread. And spread. Until there was nothing left. Well, almost nothing. There's still small groups surviving, although every waking minute of our lives is a struggle. Just going down the street to get a box of bandages can lead to your demise.