Diary of the Apocalypse {ON HOLD}

Allie Conners

Found written in an open notebook on a desk in a girl's bedroom in an abandoned house. The handwriting was barely legible near the end. In the hallway outside the door was a skeleton, and the hardwood floor around it was covered with a dark stain.

<•>

If you're reading this, pay attention. I won't be lucid for much longer, so I'll try to get it all out. Not that it matters. You'll never read this because there's nobody left.

After the crap hit the fan and there were zombies everywhere, it was just me and my brother. And then it was just me.

This is what happened on the last day I was still me.

<•>

It was almost dark, and I had to hurry up and get home. I glanced carefully around before darting across the empty street, through the dirty alley, and up the steps of my back porch. I quickly shoved my key into the keyhole and unlocked the door, glancing behind me as I heard a clatter and a loud grunt nearby. I stepped inside the kitchen, automatically shutting and locking the door behind me. Then I checked it three times.

Out of habit, I walked around the dark first floor, checking that the windows were securely latched and the dark curtains were drawn shut, even though I knew that they would be. I never opened the windows anymore.

Satisfied, I removed my shotgun, machete, and pistol from my body, dropping them on the kitchen table. I snatched up a matchbook from the counter and proceeded to light some of the candles that were lined up at the bottom of the stairs. Then I ran upstairs to my room, stripping out of my cargo pants and long-sleeved shirt and slipping into some gym shorts and a tank top. I unbraided my hair, which was starting to get greasy, and decided to take a shower tomorrow. The hot water was long gone, but cold water still came out of the pipes, and cold water was better than no water at all.

I left my bedroom to get dinner, glancing at the picture of my family that I had hung on my pink wall right above the light switch. As always, I was unable to resist smiling as I remembered the day that picture had been taken. We had just moved from our old house and were posing in front of the sign for the city we moved to, the one I was currently in. I was so lost in thought that I didn't realize something was wrong until I was almost all the way down the stairs. When I finally did notice, I stopped short.

Somebody was standing in the middle of the kitchen, their tall, muscular frame silhouetted against the moonlight that was shining from the now-open back door. The door that I had locked.

I started slowly backing up, my heart pounding in my chest, praying that they hadn't noticed me. There was no way I could get to the weapons I had left on the table with them right there, but if I could just get to the large hunting knife I kept in the drawer of the table in the upstairs hallway, I would be okay. Yeah, that's it. I'm going to be fine...Everything's going to be okay.

In my panic, I forgot to skip the fifth step. The one that creaked. It sounded like a gunshot in the silence.

I froze, rooted to the spot as the figure downstairs laughed a quiet, disturbing laugh. He stepped closer to the stairs, the candles illuminating his face. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car; I couldn't move as an ice-cold shiver ran down my spine when I saw his face.

Despite the long, greasy hair and the scratches and sores marring his once-flawless complexion, I immediately recognized the square jaw and dark brown eyes of my older brother, Aaron.

"How did you get in here?" I whispered, my mouth working better than my feet.

For a moment, my brother didn't answer. He just kept coming closer and closer, until he was only a few feet away. I watched him raise his fist, an evil grin slowly spreading across his face. Something in his hand glinted in the candlelight, but I couldn't tell what it was.