Zero

1

It's been about eight years since the dead decided to rise out of there graves, I was about four when that happened now I'm twelve. I've been alone for three years now after the incident happend, now it's just me my guitar, my journal, and my thoughts. I don't have any food right now and very little water left, and on top of that it's getting cold out and I don't have a jacket. Right now in just siting against a tree in the middle of the forest playing a little tune on my guitar, I should probably mention my name, I'm zero. Why is my name zero, because my parents saw that way. Zero is the name of a number with no value and to them I don't have any value.

I was born in Las Vegas and stayed there till I turned four, and people started getting there face torn apart by the dead. I don't remover much, but I do remember being in a community when I was about six. I stayed there till I was like nine or eighth, then I had to run away. I wrote everything that has happened to me in my journal which I got when I was seven, I still right in although I'm starting to run out of space. I've kept track of every biter and person I have killed or come across. I manly keep track because I have nothing better to do. I also have another notebook with poems and songs I've written.

You might be wondering why I left my old group, well let me tell you why. My mom died in the beginning of this but my dad was still around. He said it was my fault she died so he took out all his anger and frustration out on me. He beat me everyday, emotionally and physically, he just tried to cause as much pain as he could. The other people in the group had no idea what was going on because he was pretty good a covering himself up. Till one day I finally had enough of it after he got drunk and threw an empty beer bottle at me. It hit me in the head and a shard cut me, nearly missing my eye. I now have a little scar on the right side of my head. All I remember is just grabbing my pack and guitar and running out the house, but I didn't stop, I just kept running for as long as I could.

But that was years ago, now I'm here. I've encountered other groups and survivors on my journey, some nice, some not so nice. Either way I'm alive, but I won't be if I don't find somewhere warm to stay.

I put my guitar back in its case and stood up with a little shiver. I looked around the forest to see where I should head off to, it's going to get dark soon and a hell of a lot colder. I decided to just head of in a random direction and start walking. I kept my eyes and ears alert for any biters, but right now it seems quite...       ...a little to quite. Normally there's biters out here, but haven't come across one in three days witch means there might be a community near by. Maybe I could ask to stay, just for the winter, but I don't know where they are, or if there good people, or if there even is anybody.

I just decided to keep walking in the same direction hoping that I find somewhere warm and safe to stay. Somewhere to stay the hole winter not just a night. I really hope there is a community, a community of nice people that is.

I got so hung up in my thoughts that I wasn't paying attention to where I was going when suddenly I tripped on a Little Rock in the ground and I landed with a thud on my stomach. I quickly turned on my back to se a biter staggering toward me, chopping its decommissioning jaw and rotten teeth at me. I quickly grabbed my knife out of my belt, when suddenly it fell on top of me. I put one arm on its neck keeping it from biting my face, and swung my other hand with the knife into its skull. It's body went limp and I rolled it of me, and just laid there for a minute to catch my breath. I then got to my feet and looked around noticing a little hut a few yards to my left.

I quickly grabbed my possessions and ran to the house out of excitement, not even thinking who or what might be in there. I opened the door, and it wasn't anything fancy, just a living room, a small kitchen, and a loft with what looked like a bed. I stepped in side closing the door behind me, I then set my bag and guitar next to the door frame. I grabbed my knife out of my pocket and searched the house making sure I was alone, once I did I went back to the door and locked it. I then made my way to the kitchen to see if there was any food, all I could find was a half empty serial box of frost loops. That was good enough for me, I sat down on the couch and ate the rest of the box.

About ten minutes later I decided to write what had happened to day in my journal, so I got up and made my way to my bag. I unzipped it and pulled out my journal and pencil and wrote everything that happened, and everything I thought down on the paper. I finished about 30 minutes later, so I got up and put my stuff away. I noticed that it was getting dark out and that I should get some rest. I made my up the latter to the loft and crawled into the bed.

I tried to sleep but I couldn't stop thinking that there might be a community out there. I'm somewhere warm and safe right now but I'm already out of food and water, and I need those to survive. Just go to sleep and worry about it in the morning, so that's what I did. I shut my eyes and eventually I managed to fall asleep.

A/N
Sorry this is so short I just wanted to introduce the character, future chapters will be longer.