AM13 Outbreak Shorts

One Year On - Fifteen (Emma)

Emma

The loneliness is getting to me. There's no denying that. I think I might even be cracking up. Being alone for this length of time isn't normal. No one should ever have to face it. I think that might be the worst thing about the apocalypse, not the undead roaming the streets, or the starvation all the time. No, the fact that I don't have anyone else to talk to.

"Hey," I murmur to the nearest monster to me. He's across the street so he isn't close enough to hear me and I'm not going to make the mistake of being loud again, I only just got away from that hoard, but just for a moment, I want to pretend that I have a friend. "How are you?"

I don't get any response, not even a groan, which I suppose is a good thing. But it still reminds me that I don't have anyone else. I'm all alone.

I even went back home. I don't know what I was thinking, I just wanted to see someone even if it's my crazy parents, but they aren't there anymore. The house is empty.

I really am by myself in this crazy world.

"You probably wouldn't want to be my friend anyway," I continue talking to my non-friend. "In life, you were probably too cool for me. No one really wanted to be my friend. Well, until Rachael. You know, she was just about to start at our school, I was finally going to have a new friend, but then this happened. The apocalypse, or whatever you want to call it." I sigh loudly. "Then she still wanted to be my friend, she still wanted to come to my house, but my parents sent her away, making sure that I had to survive this by myself."

The sad this is I didn't even care about my lack of friends back then, I knew that everything would be okay and I'd flourish in the real world. Now, I will never get that chance. I will never be able to shine, that side of my life has been stripped away from me. Even if there is someone out there working on a cure, I don't know if it will ever really happen.

This, to me, feels like the end of humanity.

Maybe it's time to give up die, perhaps continuing to fight isn't worth it.

With that one morose thought in mind, I edge closer to my friend, actually asking to be killed. I want the flesh to be ripped from my bones, to be eaten. It's better than trying to live with nothing. I don't want to become one of those beasts, I want to die, and this feels like the easiest way, it saves me from being active, I can continue to be passive...

But as the scent of death infects my nostrils, I'm not sure it's the best idea after all. My survival instinct kicks in and I panic. Do I live, or do I die? Who the hell knows anymore?