March 26, 2013

Do you remember where you were when life as we know it came to a screeching halt? Thats the question nowadays. I'm not talking about 9/11 or another terrist attack or a presidental election. I'm talking about when the dead came back to life. For me, I was on my way to get something to eat. I was a few miles from my apartment when I saw someone staggering down the sidewalk. I thought to my self, pretty early to get hammered. Then as I got a little closer, I could tell that his left arm was covered in blood. A woman jogging towards him stopped right by him. I'm guessing she was trying to see if he was alright. Its always the good sumaritan that winds up getting it first. The man lunged at her and knock her on the ground and started biting her. Blood was everywhere. Everything unfolded in a matter of seconds as I was driving by. I was staring and almost ran into the car in front of me. Then I saw another staggering man and then a woman. All of a sudden there were five and then ten. All bloody and attacking anyone near them. I immediately turned my car around and drove back home. I was so scared. I just wanted to get home and lock the door and turn on the TV. Thats when you find out really what kind of person you are, when in the middle of a crisis. Me? I was scared shitless and ran back home like a coward. I could have tried to save someone, but I didn't. I made it home and locked the door and tuned in to the local stations on the TV. They were all talking about the dead coming back to life and telling people to stay in their homes. Thats exactly what I did. I didn't have any family to worry about, so I just kept my door locked and tried to be quiet. That was 3 days ago. By the evening of the first day, the first television station went off the air. A few more in the middle of the night. Now there's nothing. Same with the radio. I have peeked out the curtains a couple times and see zombies wandering around. That's what I'm calling them because thats what they are. I'm keeping this diary in case I don't make it and someone cares about my story. Or on the other hand, if mankind does survive, then people will remember what we went through when the zombie apocolypse broke out. Either way, it helps to write. It passes the time. Pass the time until what I have no idea. There has to be some more people out there somewhere. Maybe I'll start by looking for other survivors.