The Zombie Stories (Part 1 of 2)

The Zombie Story Part 1

YEAR 2, MONTH 4, DAY 3

AN INTORUDCTION TO MODERN HELL

Stay inside. Live inside. Inside is where you can get all the safety you need. To be in, you live. To be in, you survive. Inside is the home you can never find these days. Outside... is certain death

                My family and I have been living in here since that contagion had break out. This house had been our world. A small world it may be, but face the big world out there and you know... you die.

                All of us had grown bored of the four corners of our home, but we cannot escape. We may escape, but our intentions to leave keep us chained. We are prisoners waiting for eventual death. If we don’t die getting eaten outside, we eventually die of starvation in the far future inside. It’s hell in both worlds. What can I do about it?

YEAR 2, MONTH 5, DAY 5

TEACH ME THE MEANING OF HOPE

Aunt’s becoming hopeful these days. The more we knew that people were dying outside, the more did aunt became more hopeful; irony indeed. She said that some army was going to rescues us. She said that one day, some army would be knocking in our doors. Then we would rejoice. We’ll jump in joy as if the zombies are all gone. But all of us knew better than to muse of such thoughts. Everyone except few survivors is dead. There is no out there, no army to save us, there is no hope... Well that’s what I personally think.

                Despite of objections from almost all family members, aunt remained hopeful. She stormed out from the family conversation and head to the roof. Slowly, she painted the roof with huge white letters. She was still shouting out what she thinks was true. She never gave up. None pitied her and came to the roof, some just even chuckled in the silence, but I could not resist myself. I a man easily pitied, especially by old relatives. I head to the roof and helped her. Then I knew what she was really painting: SOS. I crouched down, took a thick paint brush, and stroke the white paint into the roof. I stared at aunt, she smiled, and I did the same.

What was to lose anyway? If there was really someone out there, this sign would be a big help.

YEAR 2, MONTH 6, DAY 2

DEATH IN THIS VERY HOUSE

Yesterday, Grandpa died. Not because of starvation –we have enough food- but because of a fatal ailment we failed to aid. Lamentations filled every living soul in that house. Everyone sat beside his dead corpse. After the sorrowful funeral, we concealed his body in a room we never used. I took a final look at my grandpa and I stared at the big empty room he was in. And I thought that soon, corpses would take over this house.

YEAR 3, MONTH 3, DAY 20

FOOD SUPPLY

We once had a surplus of food supply. But with days passing by, what used to be a surplus is now a scarcity. Half of my family have departed from the problems. Half still lives to suffer. Sometimes, I fancy over suicide. A single death would take all the tears from these wretched problems. It will take you to death, the perfect paradise. I ask myself why I chose agony and survival rather than eternal peace. Am I insane? Then perhaps I am.

YEAR 3, MONTH 3, DAY 24

A LIMIT OF PATIENCE

My brother finally had it. If he stays here, he would die of starvation along with us- he thought. He was going to leave this house. He’s going to a place where there would be food and few zombies. I knew that was suicide, that plan would completely not work. But three of my relatives did not feel the same. They thought that it was a brilliant plan!

                They fixed our own private shuttle in the garage. They enhanced it with barricades and stored the shuttle with our family’s guns and ammunitions and some food supplies.

                Mother stood with me as we stared them revamping the shuttle. She did not feel good about my brother’s final verdict. She said they were going to die, the same exact reason I have in my mind. So mother tried to convince my brother (for the fifth time), but my brother was very stubborn. Some part of him had hope that there was some place which is safe. Some part of him was just aggressive and adventurous. Will they survive? Only time can really tell.

YEAR 3, MONTH 3, DAY 30

MY BROTHER’S DEPARTURE

The vehicle was finally ready. The shuttle looked pretty awesome. It was designed with amazing graffiti by my niece and was armoured with barb wires on the sides. There was a shooting point on top of it and the shuttle had monster tires which lengths into the half of my body. There was a large bumper in the front and rear and finally, the shuttle’s interior was renovated for storage and somehow quality living. They turned the shuttle into a long but narrow RV; pretty amazing.

                Before they leave, we all said our goodbyes. Most goodbyes were that dramatic but I stayed casual over those moments. When that was over, it was time for them to finally leave.  They opened the garage door and rushed outside while they shot some ugly zombies in the gates of our manor. The garage door immediately closed then.

                I head to the roof to look at them. They were far away by now, almost about a kilometre away. I stared the shuttle as it gone farther. I can see my brother on top of the shuttle, shooting some weak and unaware zombies. What a waste of ammunition! Soon, they went to the forest, and I could no longer see them. I stared at the rising sun, wondering if they will ever be coming home again. And I stared down from the roof, and I saw those zombies. They freaked me out, and I immediately went in.