2. Braving up.
I heard a rattling at the door. Screams for help soon followed. Shouting, crying and screaming. I just let them scream. I couldn’t let them in; I didn’t want them to get hurt by me. I didn’t want to possibly slow them down, they didn’t need me.
I felt a sharp pain on my arm, I looked. I was wounded, blood pouring out the slice in my skin. I quickly ran into the kitchen, reaching for the first aid kit. All that was there was plasters, it just looked stupid. Plasters weren’t going to help seal the wound completely. But they are all that I’ve got.
I decided it wasn’t safe outside anymore. So I started checking the cupboards, seeing if there was any food or something, anything that had the capability of ridding me of my hunger. Nothing. The cupboards, fridge and freezer were all empty. I sat and sobbed. What was I going to do? How was I going to survive?
I started to rake through the living room, looking for a clock so I could at least have some sense of what time it was. Finally, I found one. 11:00 am. Yet it was still dark outside? Is the sun broken or something? Does this clock just not work?
Sighing, I decided my only way to get some food, was to brave the unknown and plunge into the darkness. Grabbing any sort of weapon I could, and bringing a bag, I left the house, escaping into the darkness ahead.