❝ no flex zone! no flex zone! no flex zone! these silly niggas flexing it's a no zone, you gon' be floatin' in dem rivers like you known joan - island gyal, donald trump want me go home, still pull up with my wrist lookin' like a snow cone! ❞
── in...
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six hours.
six hours had passed and so far you had swatted away about thirty mosquitos and flies, your butt was numb, you were unbelievably hungry, and sleep deprived.
the sky had diluted into a yellowish-orange color, meaning evening was near. the clouds dissipated, and you could already see the faint silhouette of the moon.
with the moon's appearance; the sun was gone, and it slightly chilly – but you refused to go back inside and get a jacket, you had to keep watch.
you had been in the same crippling position with your flashlight directed towards the woods on the other side of the street, sort of afraid that the monster you saw back at school had followed you home.
"just two more hours," you reassured yourself, looking down at your watch. "two more hours and your home free."
you began to wonder about how this so called apocalypse had even started – the lady said it started in connecticut a few days ago, but you live about a thousand miles away, but you saw an infected in your school, today.
was the disease spreading that fast?
it started to irk you that your next door neighbors were out in the city somewhere, probably engaging a bunch of cannibalistic brutes. it disturbed you even more that your next door neighbors could've been indoors right now, morphing into an infected as you sat there.
you started to get scared as your apprehension grew, and your sense became more sharp. you were looking at woods, but out of your peripheral you were searching for danger. your ears had become more keen to hearing, and you swore you heard twigs break here and there.
or maybe your were just going insane.
in order to get your mind of your imaginations, you started to think about the break out in connecticut, wondering how the actual concoction that the scientists were experimenting with got loose.
there were many scenarios that came to mind, but none of them made sense. it was sort of comical and unrealistic, there was no way in hell PhD holders could be that clumsy.
you thought about the creature back at school, and all the kids that ran off. how many did the monster infect? how many kids made it to safety?
what was the fate of your teacher?
it was obvious what the answer was, but, you wanted to have hope. some sense of security that your teacher was okay. he did end up sacrificing his life for you.
