FicWad

Blood. And screaming. So much screaming. That's all that flashed by when the infection tore this world apart. Neighbors being torn apart in front of their own house. People who I thought were my friends betraying one another, just to die by the karma of their actions. My family... I never really had a good connection with them. All of them were influenced by how this was just fate, claiming it was a test from God. All of them believed that except me... and my birth-mother. Despite all the violence and screams of agony going on around the place I used to call home, I risked it all to see my mother. Running to her for what I wished to not be the last time. She was the first to have signs of the infection, but the effects were slowly affecting her. She hadn't gone rabid and primal with rage yet when I reached her room in the shut down hospital. I sat there beside her, holding her hand as we stared into eachother for a long time, blocking out the gunshots, shrieking, and death going on outside the door. Our silence was broken as she raised a weak hand to brush a strand of hair from my face and she tiredly asked "When I fall into the last stage of this virus and go to sleep... please kill me so I don't come back as one of those things.". I said nothing but nodded my head gently, tears welling bigger in my eyes as her breathing became slower and slower. I didn't want my mother to suffer... this wonderful woman who sacrificed everything for me and the ones she loved. She had already been through too much. I slowly got up to grab a pair of scissors from the cabinet in the desk, shaking as I picked up the handle and forced myself to stand beside my mothers head as it rested in a feverish sleep on the bed. Gasping and weeping when I raised the scissors above my head and angled it over my mothers throat. I look at her weak face one last time before clenching my eyes shut, whispering "I'm sorry.". When I swiped the blade of the scissors down, I felt it tear the skin and emit a sickening slashing sound. I didn't dare open my eyes. I couldn't. I threw the scissors across the room with a sob and sank to the floor, curling up into a ball and shivering from all the horrors I witnessed in just one week.
"It was just supposed to be a cold...".
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Monotone. Dull. Cold and seemingly empty. Everyone that remains uninfected knows the dangers we have to live through each day. But they aren't scared. Worried. or even fazed by the sh-t show that happened 2 years ago. The screams and stampeding feet of infected hordes are normal now, daily in fact. Of course with mass numbers of infected, most people would say it's best to stick with a group of other survivors. Not for me though. I just stick to being alone because either:

1- Most survivors I've come across suck and try to take advantage of newbies or "defenseless women" as they like to say. (They called me that too, but I wasn't having any of it)
Or
2- The ones I knew would either end up backstabbing me or dying, sometimes both.

Sure, it got lonely and tough sometimes. But it really isn't all that bad when you have a lot of time to yourself and can sorta forget there's an apocalypse going on. For example, I enjoy playing the guitar, bass guitar if you're a rock enthusiast like me. But since most of the time when I play and it brings infected to my area, I have to keep the noise to a minimum. The least noisy thing I enjoy to do most is simply draw. I never thought I'd learn how to draw, but when you have a crap-ton of time on your hands anything's possible I guess. And since I'm the only person of my group, I get to keep a camp all to myself, that being an abandoned warehouse. It's big and roomy but I mostly stick to the meeting room (or what used to be the meeting room) and sleep on the big ass couch in there. The couch is one of the three luxuries I have left in the apocalypse, the other two being my mothers old denim jacket and my lime green guitar that I snatched from home.
Even though the couch is scratched up a bit (the office might've had a cat or something, I don't know) but it's still pretty comfy.

It was about time to head in for the night, a day full of blood and survival. I did get a nice party pack of chips though! So it was worth it. After setting everything up for the night, I folded up my mothers denim jacket beside me and laid down on the couch to rest. Comforted by the touch and smell of the jacket, I began to slowly edge into sleep.
But I was quickly disturbed as I heard scratch at the door, followed by a snarl.