Storytelling

English Class and Fanfictions

So, I'll just get to the point. A while ago, my teacher assigned a story writing prompt, where we have to have a story including the hero's juorney archetype. Any story, what so ever.

Two things- It had to be original, and it had to be less than two pages.

Two. Pages.

So what did I write? A fanfiction, of course. I used Chelsea's name. It's a South Par fanfic.

"Leave My Woes Behind." Anne D.

            "Apocalypse.”
            My eyes went wide at the simple sound of it. I suspected it as just another South Park antic, and shrugged it off. A smile played on the edge of my lips, forming into a smirk. “No,” I thought. “Really?’ and with that, I headed toward the kitchen. Before I could, though, father stopped me.
            “You need to learn how to listen. Go to Clyde’s room. He and Carrie are there. Take care of them. I’m busy.” He snapped, letting go of my shoulder and pushing me. I simply obeyed his command and ran up the stairs, heading to my brother’s room. Walking in, I witnessed the duo clinging onto each other, bawling their eyes. I felt a pang of pain in my chest.
            A few of my own tears slipped at the sight of the two. What are we going to do? I walked to the curtain and peered outside, thinking. Is it a prank now? I don’t know. You’d be crazy if you thought it was, though. Never did I believe that the end was where we began.
            October 17, 2024. It’s been three weeks since the outbreak, and we were low on everything. We had no food, no water, and no medication. We needed to get moving.
            Father knew this day would come. We needed to split into groups. The youngest was Carrie, who was 9, and Clyde, who was merely only 10. I was 19. Father was the first to speak about it, though. We had to get going.
            “Clyde, Chelsea,” Father called us. “You’re staying home. Carrie’s coming with me.” He finished up, packing his stuff into an old, black backpack. I tried to protest, but this was the best plan we’ve got. That day, though, they never came back. What about the day after that? They still had not come. A week passed, and there was no sign of them. Father and Carrie were dead. By that time, we had run out of food.
            At first, I couldn’t tell Clyde that they were gone. He was still so young. But at that moment, I realized that we had to grow up. Clyde deserved the truth. I walked up the stairs, and heard the distant cries of my brother. “He knew,” I thought. And with that, I rushed up the stairs and joined in on my brother’s cries and held him close.
            The next day, though, we needed to get moving. This was the first time in a long time that I had actually felt truly paralyzed by fear. I was completely responsible on what we had to do. So today, I decided to pack our bags with water and a first aid kit and get moving. I carried a gun. Clyde strapped on his bag and waited for my instructions.
             “Let’s go.” I said, sternly. We slipped on our surgical masks, thin jackets and boots. I opened the door to witness absolute horror. The carcass of Carrie laid awkwardly in our yard, with father’s body nowhere to be seen. Clyde simply looked away. He was growing up.
            Almost instantly, a zombie came running our way. It was going for Clyde. He had no weapons on him. I didn’t know if it was us, or Carrie’s body that attracted it, but I took  the gun and shot aimlessly. The zombie fell to the ground, and I felt myself twitch. Clyde turned to me, with tears in his hazel eyes, and he smiled.
            “Thank you, Chelsea. I love you.” And with that, Clyde fell to the ground with a thud. Suddenly, I realized.
            I shot Clyde Donovan.
            I fell to his body, trying, and failing, to keep it warm. Even if he died, Clyde wasn’t a heartless zed. He was still my brother. I saved him. I couldn’t sit here and mourn, though. The scent of his blood would attract more of them.
            So what did I do? I got into my car and drove to Denver, to find a place to stay.
            November 3, 2024. I found myself in Denver and decided the library on the far edge of town was my best bet. It was obvious that it was not, as there was someone already there.
            “Who’s there? Are you bitten?” A feminine voice yelled. Sweet, another girl survivor.
            “No! I’m not! Please, hurry!” I tried to sound urgent.
            “Remember, we won’t mind blasting your skull so much that we find even a single mosquito bite on you.” She clicked the door open and let me in, relocking the giant lock pad. This is where I met my best friend. Accompanied by a middle-school-aged child, the girl that let me in was Kristen Tucker. The boy was Kevin McCormick. Kristen and I had very similar stories. The only difference, though, was that she wanted to go back to South Park.
            “Guys, ever thought of going back to South Park?”
            “I shouldn’t have left. Not a thing against you two, but I think it would be safer there.”
            “Let’s go, then.” Kristen beamed. I felt appalled. She was going crazy.
            “We’re going to die either way. I want to die in South Park. Denver sucks.” Kevin muttered. “Whatever. I’m going home. Think, Chelsea. We’re probably the only people alive. There’s nothing we can do about it. Face it. Let’s just go home.” He whispered the last part, and Kristen smiled. I followed along. Kevin was right. We gathered our things and ran to South Park.
            I stood in front of House 1024. An uneasy feeling settled itself in my stomach. Carrie’s bones still laid in the yard, and Clyde’s decomposed body lingered on the porch, and it stunk.
            Busy in my thoughts, Kristin and Kevin came stumbling toward me. “Chelsea! Chelsea, run!” She heaved, out of breath. “Run!” I noticed a horde of zeds running their way, legs partially detaching in the process. My eyes widened, and I jumped the porch and ran.
            With the two far behind me, I decided to slow down and save them. “Keep running!”
            I pulled out my gun and turned around, letting the two run past me. I took several shots, taking out most of the zombies, but I was still shrouded by a horde. The closest zombie went for my shoulder, and I shot it. Little did I know there was one near my leg.
            “Chelsea!” Kevin screamed, ducking down and saving me. The zed gnawed at his neck, killing him instantly. I kept running, silently thanking McCormick. I ran north, looking for a safe spot. Kristen’s body was on the sidewalk in front of me, with a gunshot wound on her stomach.
            “I’m clumsy,” She started. “See you again, Chels.” She closed her eyes and fell to an unconscious oblivion; Forever. How could it be that I lost two people in a matter of seconds?
            I didn’t fail to notice the familiar zed faces that ran my way. I snatched Kristen’s gun and smiled. “See you soon, Kristen. Kevin.”
            And with that, I pointed the gun at myself and pulled the trigger.
            Welcome to South Park.