Where did my luck go?

Prologue

My shoes echoed off of the concrete, my inky hair spilling over my shoulders with my fringe hanging over my left eye. The moon hid behind a few grey clouds, leaving the night dark and cold. The street lights cast unnerving shadows, the light hitting the pavement. The wind bit at my pale arms. The keys jingled in my back pocket, reminding me of how I no longer could go home.

 I shivered at the thought of going home. All those dead zombies on the carpet and the green blood soaked into the white carpet. The sickening crack of bones breaking, and flesh hanging off their decayed teeth; apparently zombies have a really bad case of the munchies. I couldn’t go home to the gruesome scene, not a chance. I don’t think I can ever go back. How could I? All those precious memories ruined by a mob of freaking zombies, everything in ruins. The picture frames broken on the floor, and limbs sprayed everywhere. Those once recognizable faces, now gone.

 Zombies are the reason I am walking down a deserted street with a backpack hanging off my shoulders. I used to not believe in zombies, but now I do. I never thought that zombies or ghost were real, never in my life. But then again, I never thought I would be completely alone either. I guess life is full of unexpected surprises, not all of them good, but I guess some are, I just never witnessed a good surprise.

 I’m one of the unlucky ones I presume, very unlucky.   

Copyright (C) Juliette Ann Guido