To all the senses, smoke and ash. I can't tell if reality is real or if unimaginable is real. I don't dare to leave the house, but the obliteration is everywhere, the destruction of mankind or at least a sense of being human. Not even after a day after the happening (much nicer than saying the undead attacking and killing the living) and every car in the street has gone with the families that own them. As for me, my father never came back, presume he's dead or he's been smart and left while he could. My mother on the other hand could be one of the undead, well, if a certain conspiracy was right.
Many say the dead have come back to life, whilst many more say it's a plague or virus, I for one do not care for the origin but much rather the ending. Whether humans survive or not, humanity itself is dead, our now forced victims are our own kind, granted they're soulless corpses but still. A person was once there, a living and breathing person, a sibling, a mother or even someone's child for their parents protection. But now, now all there is, is a lust for human flesh which burns is the milky-white pale sphere lodged into the skull, not much eyes anymore but more blockades to the rotting flesh inside.
A scream, not far, but from the side of the street from my house. Footsteps, fast ones charging past in front of my house, a girl, my age perhaps. Footsteps, fast but heavier ones, pouncing upon the girl in front of my gate, a middle-aged man. Her terrified shrieks rang in my ears, I knew where this was going, yet I find myself looking. Her back pushed down into the pavement, her arms held down by the man's hands. I could see the mascara filled tears streaming down her cheeks, the once probably manicured hands bright red and worn from just a day. I could tell by just looking at her what kind of person she was, the one I hated to be honest. Pretty, not intelligent, relies upon others admiration and her parents' money.
I withdrew myself from the window and drew the curtain back, not caring for what happens to her, everyone man for himself I guess. It's obvious the primitive instincts of humans have kicked in, men being the stereotypically stronger ones fight, I have seen it, and they do so to claim women. I feel so worthless, knowing that a bunch of men will use me for trading, or for simply their play thing to use however they please. It was going to happen eventually, the ape side of our civilised society will overrule once technology and order would be broken. The screams continued, I could hear him slap her and scold her, she must of been caught already, tried to escape, fool.
A low rumble emerged from the screaming, my stomach, no surprise. I haven't moved from my bed for a day and a half, too scared about making any noise and attracting unwanted people, actually everyone is unwanted. No-one can be trusted. I swivelled my body from the window to the edge of my bed and lightly placed my foot onto the red carpet, and simply sighed. The amount of times I've cried is ridiculous, I can't be able or I tend to go a bit, bizarre. When left with my thoughts I over think everything and keep to the negative side of it, but nowadays negativity is a norm. I can't think of anything positive that has come from this, none at all, not one.
I tiptoed out of my room and down the stairs, the front door locked the maximum amount of times possible, which sadly, wasn't many. A simple chain, and an upper and lower door lock, not exactly reassuring the least bit. The kitchen was a mess, but it was like that before, there was no point in checking the fridge, the electric has been gone for several days, all I could hope for would be tins and cupboard stored food. I shoved my arm into the cupboard before barely having opened it, a tin, yes! I cried out louder than I noticed.
The screaming outside had come to a halt, I froze. I forgot the front door was plain glass and not the rippled sort, the man could see right through and see me, clinging to that tin. The lumbering figure began towards my door, I didn't know what to do. My legs stiffened, my arms like vices upon the tin, my stomach began to shake and tremble. He looked through the door, his bald head shone from the dim sunlight, a grin on his face, and a length of rope on his shoulder. It was then I could see in the distance that he didn't rape the girl, he hogtied her. Kidnapping. I ran.
A smash front the front doors glass and the man's muffled shouts. I fled to the living room, swung open the window, squeezed my body out (and the tin) and continued to run. I wasn't wearing shoes nor socks, and I knew that this I would regret not having thought about before coming downstairs, oh well. The garden was already overgrown but by the looks of it, it looks as if it hasn't been tended to for years, trees growing into the fencing, thorns twisting around the wooden rose bed, the grass growing past my ankles and broken garden furniture which had been hided at the side of the garden. I used the garden when I was younger, but at seventeen, I didn't much use it nor care for it. I could hear the man, he was shouting, his words weren't audible to my ears but they were words I assume. I stopped.
I froze, I didn't know what happened. My chest began to hurt, a tightening pain. I fell to the ground, grasping at the grass whilst I began to shout and scream. I suddenly was aware of a pin like stab in my chest, I man in front of me, a different one. I couldn't get a good look before I collapsed completely to the floor, dropping the tin. It was then I saw the tin. Beans. Everything went black, my vision faded and then my consciousness. I hate beans.