Still not bitten (Zombie apocalypse) Harry Styles

Is that....?

Everyone had gone back to the cabin long ago, but I remained sat beside the shallow grave, lost in my thoughts as I watched the sun begin its descent. I still had a few hours before I had to go back and I was glad I could have a moment alone.

Everything just seemed to be going down hill more and more as the days went by, I couldn't keep up. I just wanted all of this to end, there was no need for any of this. Whatever my mother had been trying to achieve, I had a feeling she had fucked it up. But, like me, she was obviously far too stubborn to admit it. Even when most of the human population were half-dead, flesh-eating...well....zombies.

That was the only way I could describe it. I had tried to avoid the word for a very long time by calling them many other things. I tried to convince myself that they were just infected with something, that it was like a disease that could be cured. But it couldn't. The only way out for them was death. It was a terrifying fate that I didn't have any desire for. Besides, their complexions were terrible, and just look at the state of their hair. Gross.

And my Dad had been one of them.

The thought alone made me grimace. He didn't deserve that. No one deserved that.

My head shot up, the sound of crackling leaves meeting my ear as I waited for Harry to come into view. But then I realised that if it was Harry, he would be coming from the opposite direction.

Which meant that whoever was walking towards me was a complete stranger.

That wasn't a promising thought considering the life I was leading. One part of me was intrigued and wanted to stay, while the other was terrified and wanted to run until my shoes wore through.

I waited and waited, my body unable to move as I waited for anyone to appear.

My eyes widened when the figure came into view, their hands slung casually in their pockets as if they didn't have a care in the world.

Is that....? No....no way. This isn't happening. I'm dreaming. Surely I'll wake up any second....

"Dad?" I questioned in disbelief. "How....?"

Confusion was settling over me like a layer of dust that I was too lazy to sweep. I felt like I was being suffocated by the air surrounding me as I looked at him. He looked fine, completely human. It was like he had never been anything different. Like he hadn't been one of them.

"Hey, Muffin." He smiled. "How's the AIDS?"

"I don't have AIDS, Dickhead." I laughed, remembering all the times he had said that to me.

He chuckled, "How have you been?"

"Alright." I shrugged, slightly confused with the question. Did it really matter how I was? I had more important things to worry about than whether or not I feel okay.

"You don't smell alright." He wrinkled his nose, pretending that he could smell me from where he was standing. "When was the last time you took a shower?!"

"Oh, shut up." I rolled my eyes teasingly, standing up and brushing myself off.

"I don't shut up, I grow up, and when I look at you I throw up." Dad mocked, sticking out his tongue as I pulled the finger at him.

"So mature." I said, slowly clapping my hands at his behaviour.

"Says the one that claimed she was six when she turned fifteen."

"You stuck your tongue out at me like a four year old." I pointed out. "I think I win."

"I think you lose." He said, crossing his arms across his chest before opening his arms again. "Are you going to give your old man a hug or not?"