Sierra sent out a distress call once again. All she heard back was radio static. Maybe it's hard for them to respond, with all the towers in New York being destroyed. Six months ago, the green troops sent out a message telling the survivors to contact them through this specific frequency, and yet, they have not responded to her signal. The little room she's been in for months felt claustrophobic, and the floor was only getting colder, but Sierra believed in the troops. They once helped her and her family when they needed them. Her family. What's left of her dad was probably sprawled out infront of the door, rotting. Her gag reflex got used to the smell. She heard him scream for her to keep the door closed as he was torn apart. Her sister was ingulfed by the zombies more than a year ago and disappeared into the mass as they ran away. She was by herself, but knowing the green troops could hear her, believing they could, made her feel a little better. As good as an orphan who got stuck here, and God knows if anyone will come help her, with the outside fuming with death and hopelessness. Even if anyone comes, what's left of life out there? Sierra thought, looking at the moss green door. Bang! Something hit the door, and shook the handle. Sierra panicked, jumped up and grabbed the radio. "This is a distress signal! I am being cornered by zombies, alone with no weapons." Static. "Anyone, Please!" Just static. Is anyone listening? Have they even heard any message she sent out? "I don't want to die here, not like this, Please!" Sierra cried out, but she was all alone. "I'm scared.." She slid back down on to the dirty tiles as her tears continued to fall. The door shot open.
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✨Escapril ✨ § poems and shorts §
Poetry🔅The smell of rotten apples filled the house, as Toga lay dead. 🔅 Hey guys! This is a collection of poetry and short stories for the escapril challenge (prompts from @letsescapril on Instagram) so I will be posting a chapter for every day or so of...