"We should get a move on." Vivian said grabbing a cloth out of her bag and using it to clean her hands. She pats my shoulder and gathers her things, stuffs the cloth in her back pocket and starts walking, I quickly catch up.
"Why did you take care of me?" I asked. Again, I'm not used to being cared for.
"Well, you saved me from being eaten alive, its the least I could do." She laughs shaking her head.
"I guess, but still. Any smart person would have left me for dead."
"Whatever," she said.
I started to hear sticks cracking, and a groan came from behind me. I felt a breeze brush my neck causing the hair on my arms to stand. I heard another groan.
I slowly grabbed my knife, grasping it until my knuckles were turning white. I spun around as quickly as I possibly could realizing the was a zombie, I stabbed it. I stabbed it as hard as I could, my knife getting stuck in his skull.
I managed to pull my knife out but I continued to stab his body until my wrist hurt. I slouched causing myself to drop the knife and fall to the side. I curled up in a ball and began to cry.
Vivian came over and grabbed my knife, cleaning it off with the rag she had in her back pocket. I just sat there and cried.
I sat up, sniffling and wiping my eyes. Killing a zombie never got to me, sometimes I got some kind of sick pleasure from it, other times not so much.
However, this one got to me. And I mean really got to me, but I avoided conversation with Vivian about my reation.
Even though we kept walking, making other small talk, one thought kept floating at the back of my mind, time froze and every time I thought of this, I got queasy.
I just stabbed my own father. Continuously.
YOU ARE READING
I Stand Alone
HorrorWhat would you do if I told you we could all be dead in one night? What if I told you that a zombie apocalypse was uprising in Salt Lake City as we speak? Well, I can tell you now, when 17 year old Morgan Davidson wakes up one morning to her father...
