Short Stories

1

'What doesn't kill you... makes you wish you were dead.."

My lungs burned as I keep heaving out heavy breaths. My legs continue to carry me and my younger brother, Jacob, as he was on my back. His legs wrapped around my waist and his arms around my neck, choking me every couple moments. I slow down to glance behind me, seeing the dead was catching up fast. One of them almost grab onto Jake, but I dash off again, making multiple turns in hopes of losing the horde.

'Got a hole in my soul and it's growing deeper and deeper... and I can't take one more moment of this silence. The loneliness is haunting me.'

I push my body to keep moving -- my brother's survival was the only thing that mattered to me. After losing our parents and sister, I couldn't bear to lose him. God, no... I didn't care how terribly we couldn't bond before this, I still loved him. I was his protector now. 

After what felt like hours, we were finally able to get into an abandoned, yet already looted house. Much to our dismay, the place was picked clean of anything we needed - food, medicine, water bottles. We were able to get into a bedroom and barricade the door, considering there was still some dead after us. The door wouldn't be able to hold for very long, but long enough for me to catch a breath. My legs ache tremendously and my lungs continue to burn. Nobody predicted the dead to rise and be cannibalistic...

'And the weight of the world is getting harder to hold up'

Looking after him and myself was severely difficult. Even though my stubborn nature was to feed him and make sure he had the luxury of everything we could get, I knew I would need it too if I wanted to live. Not that I cared about my own life, I just need to be alive to be able to protect him. How could an 11-year-old survive in this... this chaos?

'It comes in waves. I close my eyes. Hold my breath and let it bury me. I'm not okay and it's not alright!'

I was always mentally and physically exhausted, and I didn't have much time to even think about my emotions, but when I did, it hit hard. I would sob and scream, probably alerting every walker around. That's what happened this time - I was having a mental breakdown, thus alerting about 5 walkers, but I knew we wouldn't be able to take all 5 on our own. So, we ran. I carried Jacob and myself far, but it only drew more of the dead behind us and causing a whole herd to be on our tails. 

'Won't you drag the lake and bring me home again?'

I knew home was an impossible thing to have. To have life be back the way it was. To have little children running around, laughing and playing. And to think, I thought I hated my life then. I was always worried about the petty shit -- school, my new job, chores, all the stuff a 16-year-old typically worries about. If I had only known then...

'Who will fix me now? Dive in when I'm down? Save me from myself... Don't let me drown!'

I knew life wouldn't be able to be the same. At least, not while I'm alive, considering the whole apocalypse began two years ago. It was too recent for there to be a cure. Though I'll be honest, I don't know how much longer I can go on. I barely get any sleep, we barely get any food or water, hell, we're getting by on anything we can scrape up. It's not much, but it's enough to keep us alive. 

'What doesn't destroy you, leaves you broken instead. Got a hole in my soul, growing deeper and deeper.'

The door was just about to give out from the constant banging and weight against it from the dead. I prop open the bedroom window, taking a look at what lied below. It was about a 10-foot drop, but with some scooting and taking it slow, we should be fine. I shove the window open the rest of the way for Jacob to get through.