Short Stories to exercise the Imagination (In progress)

Undead Red

Inspiration: Watching a walking dead episode and then randomly thought about children books. Leading me to mix zombies with red riding hood story so enjoy a red riding hood twist.
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   It was a icy winter this season. Though I couldn't tell, only relying on my sight to observe this, I could not feel anything but numbness.

The snow on the ground lay minimal but present, I do not protest by this because no childish excitement stirs within me.

I walk to my small home through the thick evergreen woods like any day, my life too mundane for someone like me.

But my reasons have changed. I cannot do as I once did, going to school or even to the market place. My friends and everyone else think I died long ago in the incident.

In some ways I have, as the people I once knew live on seemingly blissful. They have no idea of the horrors that lurk in the shadows. Things have changed today, I no longer wait in the those shadows I can blend in.

My bones feel heavy, my skin loose and rotten. I was being to get hungry. No part of me resembles my once living self when I am at the state of hunger. My only  desire when I am like this is one that goes against my whole being but without it I will sink further into my immortal hell. In our terms, in this century we are called living corpse, but in your era you call us Zombies.

Where human flesh sadly is what keeps us alive.

My mother knows of my condition but treats me the same as before. I pretend do the activists my once living self has done, to help my mother have some normalcy.

Much like today, where in the morning a soft scent of cinnamon and sweet sugar permeated in the air. It isn't as strong as when I had my human senses, now I was just a numb,dull sense being.

I walked downstairs where I am met with the sight of my loving mother. Her brown hair in a tight braid dusted with flour, and flour all over her face.

I laugh softly knowing she is always spilling something on herself. My corpse like state is a form I only take when I am at a point of  hunger. My mask hiding what I truly was underneath my  normal human appearance .

How my life had come to this was just a simple story to share. You may already know, sitting in your plush bed surrounded by the essence of home. Warm and snug listening with bright eyes as you are read a story of a young girl traveling into the dark woods being stalked by a wolf, ignorant of her fate as she goes to her grandmothers.

What if I told you that it actually happened but the story you were told was the fuzzy version.
If you take away the rose color glass, you see the truth of someone's life not a story for the entertainment of children.
      Let us begin shall we, before the times of my senseless immortality and evil primitive hunger.

It all started in the fall months of November, my mother was out to the local market.

I was just out of school, beaming with the excitement of the coming weekend. I started off to the way home.

It's not the most pleasant of journeys as it travels through a series of wooded areas. I had my hair in a clean pony, I wore my leather boots that sloshed in the wet ground and I wore; not a red cape but a white velvety dress, with a light hooded coat.

I walked through the forest, the scent of wet earth and pine consumed my senses. I took a breath in listening to the forest melody.

The forest become quiet in a split second, a snap of a twig rang through the area.

I scanned my surroundings, I saw a dark patch in the bushes a head of me. I feel the hairs raising up on my skin.

I run the other way not looking back. A normal person would curiously check it out but I've read many horror stories to know not to do so.