The Walking Dead: The lost World

Chapter 1

I got up early that day; sleeping on the ground didn't help me to rest further.
I really wanted to freshen up and change my clothes; wearing the same clothes every day was not a good feeling, especially in the heat of July. I prepared the few things that I kept with me, including an old torch, a small knife, several empty bottles and an old backpack, I loaded it on my shoulders and I walked along the road I was traveling since some days.

As I could see, the only thing I noticed was that endless road in front of me and those huge expanses of trees and woods on both sides of the road. Often the usual feeling of not being able to see the classic morning "chaos" was still alive in me, especially hearing the drivers of buses and cars screaming against the queues at traffic lights. I tended to totally immerse myself in my fantasy and I always hoped to find a minimum of comfort in that, but those little thoughts only tended to sadden me further, so I avoided thinking about it too much.

It's been several years since the world turned, a world where the word "normal" no longer has any meaning. Living the days in terrible conditions seems almost normal to me now. I didn't even remember when the walkers had started to infest every place, tearing the living with their jaws to appease that insatiable hunger.
All I could remember was an emergency announcement on television telling us to not leave our homes unless it was absolutely necessary.

But we couldn't just sit around and wait, so instead of hiding like rats in a cage, my sister, my father and I decided to escape from the city looking for a safe place to hide, waiting for the situation to be restored. My mother died of cancer, this is what my father told me, she fortunately didn't saw the world go in pieces.
The help they promised never came, no military, no "quarantine zones", nothing, none of this happened.
There weren't "safe places".
Everywhere you looked, everywhere you went something was ready to attack you, living or dead, it always was like living with a knife at your throat every damn day.

My father and my sister died one year after the epidemics spread completely. They got attacked by some walkers during a supply operation; I found them 2 days later on a body of a deer, feeding themselves with his guts.
My father always taught me to not be "careful" or "gentle" with the dead, they're dead, they don't feel pain, they don't have feelings or emotions, they don't know who you are, and it doesn't matter who they were before. After you got bit, scratched or if you get infected blood in you body, you'll not be you anymore, you're ended.

Your body keeps every seconds more heavy, the fever burns your skin and your brain, like fire. The transformation depends person by person. And then, you become like an empty and cold container, where the only thing that make you move is the insatiable desire to kill and to eat the living, and the only thing that can stop their existence is hitting their head with something.
With all the pain in my body I decided to take the knife I had in my pocket. I kicked them so they would fall, and I gently stabbed them into their heads, as if they could still feel pain.

They fell slightly to the ground, like leaves from a tree, after a scarlet puddle appeared from behind their heads. I stood for hours near their bodies, crying and looking at my hands smeared with their blood, and there for a thousand hiccups, I wondered, "how could I still be there?" "What price would I have to pay to be alive?".
But deep down, I knew I'd never get an answer.
In the early days when I was alone I tried many times to kill myself, but I always ended up remaining motionless with the gun to the head; the problem was pulling the trigger.

After that episode of my life I didn't find the strength to do anything anymore, I felt lost and my determination had vanished as if I didn't want to fight anymore. I often stood still for days in the same place, I didn't care much about eating or drinking, relying on chance. "If you eat today, tomorrow you will surely fast", this is what i used to repeat to myself in my head.
I always hoped some walker would kill me in my sleep, just because I feared it would happen when I was awake.

But I started to become aware, I had to react and face what was in front of me, I didn't want to give up, and time by time I learned how to manage the walkers and to fight them without the slightest fear, also learning to handle every type of weapon, realizing that being on the side of the trigger or the handle of a knife is the greatest responsibility a person can have.