Zompocalypse Diaries (QUICK edit finished)

November 21, 2012

Nov 21 2012

Dear Journal,

It started today. I think I've always known in the back of my mind that it would come. After years of books, games, movies- all subconsciously preparing us for the outbreak- the impossible happened. The dead are rising, hungry for anyone who gets in their path.

It started like any other Tuesday. I slowly dragged myself from my warm bed and shuffled to the bathroom to get ready for another mind numbing day of my senior year. Just this last year and I'm free.

My parents had already left for work so after my shower, preening in the mirror and a quick bowl of cereal I slung my book bag over my shoulder and was out the door, headphones in, eyes on the ground. I got to the sidewalk, Megadeth's Symphony of Destruction blaring in my ears, and finally glanced up.

The scene that greeted me was, for lack of a better word, Hell. Gone were the chirping birds, the pristine lawns and the smiling neighbors.

Disgruntled moans and terrified screams filled the air. Cars were everywhere, honking in the middle of the road, spinning out on the wrong side of the streets and crashing into houses, lawns and other cars.

One of the cars, Mrs. Lawrence's by the looks of it, came careening towards me after being sideswiped by an SUV. I jumped out of the way, back onto the lawn, only to be grabbed by the hook on top of my book bag.

I shrugged the bag off my shoulder and into my hand, turning to get a look at the man who had a hold on me.

The bottom half of his face was ripped away, exposing the jaw below, his eyes were a pitch black and his skin was cracked, crusted with dried pus and blood. He screamed, an inhuman, high pitched groan. Panicking, I gave a final tug and lost my balance, falling onto my back. The man kept his death grip on the bag and fell onto me, jaws snapping. My bag had lodged between our chests, pressing down, making my breath come in slow gasps.

With my left arm trapped under me and my body held in place by a scaly, oozing mass, I glanced frantically around, looking for anyone or anything to help. Luckily the bag, though cutting off my breath, was holding him a precious few inches away from ripping my throat out. I spotted palm sized rock to my right and reached for it. My fingers fumbled across the side, turning it but not moving it any closer.

I kept fumbling, gagging on his rancid breath, gasping for air and stretching. Stretching as far as I could. After what felt like a lifetime, I finally knocked the rock closer and snatched it up, swinging it into the side of his head.

I felt the rock come in contact and heard a sickening crunch. The creature fell to the side and I pulled my arm free, jumping to my feet and grabbing my bag.

After giving it a few well deserved kicks to the head, I looked around for a way back into my house.