Surviving The Walking Dead (BOOK ONE IN THE SURVIVING THE WALKING DEAD SERIES)

Home Sweet Trailer

October 1995

     Two years have passed since my mom died. When it came time for my dad to meet the insurance company days after her death, he didn't say anything to me, let alone the man he spoke to. Luckily we were covered by our insurance, but unfortunately nothing was salvageable. We only had what we took with us to the mountain and the business card that Philip gave me that I kept hidden away. My dad never asked about what happened when Philip and I left the house. I tried talking to him about it, telling him how much fun I had with him, but he only scoffed about it and resumed to drinking his beer.

     My dad was a completely different man, after my mom died. He only spoke to me when he was in a drunken rage, but otherwise he never said a word to me. We stayed at various homeless shelters for a few weeks as we awaited for the check from the insurance company to come in so we could get our new home. My dad worked odd end jobs to keep us fed and clothed while living in the shelter, he never told me what he did, but he brought back money, so I didn't care. Every morning when I woke up, he was never there. He'd leave early hours of the morning and wouldn't' come back to the shelter until after the sun went down. I appreciated all the hard work he was doing to keep us afloat, but sometimes, I just wished I could spend time with my dad like I used to.

     Eventually his insurance company's check finally came in, and we were able to move out of the homeless shelter. It was a bittersweet moment as we packed our bags for our last night at the shelter. I never talked to anyone, so I didn't have any friends, making the move easier on me. I was glad to be finally moving out of the shelter, but I knew that everything was going to be different. I just hoped that a little change of scenery would change the man my dad had become. We drove down the long dirt road we always took to go home when my mom was alive. The truck was absolutely silent, nothing but the sound of pebbles crunching beneath our tires

     As the sun began to rise we approached our new home, it was a small egg shell colored mobile home. It had some windows busted out, but it had a small front porch, so I guess it wasn't too bad. It wasn't much, but I was just happy to be in a place we called home. I assumed my dad would have had some furniture inside already, but as soon as I walked in, the house was empty. Horrible floral print wall paper haunted the living room, a few stains from the previous owners, but that was it. No couch, no beds, nothing but sinks, a bathtub, and toilet.

     "I love it daddy!" I smiled trying to remain optimistic.

     "Don't be so fuckin' sarcastic, it was the best I could do." He snapped at me as he walked in and threw his bag onto the floor. "Look at this fuckin' bullshit." He stared at the wall for a few moments then focused his attention to the floor. "And this fuckin' ugly ass blue carpet, the previous owner must've let their dogs piss and shit wherever they fuckin' wanted." He stared at the stain as if he'd hope to scare it away. "Lazy bitch." He mumbled under his breath.

     Moments went by as he inspected the place, insulted every stain and crack he walked past before returning to the truck to grab the rest of our stuff. "Do ya need any help daddy?"

     "Does it look like I need any help?" He grumbled as he reached for another duffle bag.

     "I don't know, that's why I was askin'." He stopped reaching for the bag then turned his gaze to me.

     "Don't get fuckin' smart with me." He grumbled as he returned to the bag.

     "Well... what should I do?"

     "I don't know, go unpack in your fuckin' room or somethin'." I grabbed my bag and looked back at my dad, he was still messing with the duffle bag and pulled out a can of beer. I felt a tear stream down from my face as I walked away, nothing had changed, he was still the mean drunk he was at the shelter.