You've got two options: the dead or dead.
Two sides of the same coin in a manner of speaking. On one side, the eagle, free in flight, free of the earth and all the concerns that come with it. On the other, the decaying severed head of george washington snapping his jaws shut on the pad of your index finger as you stare at him with disbelieving eyes.
When the guns run out of bullets and the knives have lost their edge what exactly is left? Not fuckin' much pal. Not fuckin' much at all. You can only jerk off out of boredom so many times before you realize you are wasting valuable hydration and that you are literally masturbating to death. It's infuriating.
You're stuck in a box. It's a windowless box because you were smart enough to board it all up when you arrived here. You can still see outside though sport, a crack here and there. It makes the world outside seem one dimensional.
You ran out of water on the third day. You should have run out of water on the fith day but you thought you'd be rescued by the fourth day so you drank it all on the third. Now you are well and truly fucked. You can go into the basement and try draining the pipes for some scant remaining hydration but you are scared as fuck to go down there. You heard movement in there yesterday but it turned out to be the former family's friendly feline. You beat it to death with a hammer before you realized it was too small and furry to be one of "them". You cried like a little bitch about it.
So now you are sitting in the living room surrounded by death. Your own, the dead outside, shambling down the streets looking for a meal, the poor kitty in the basement. You wish you had a cigarette. You gave them up when your ex-wife convinced you they would kill you and right before she ran off with the DJ from the local dance club. You heard she was snorting pills like an idiot now. You are glad you do not have a fifth of rum because you know how you get and if you start showing your dangly bits around here you are likely to die without them.
You are sitting on the couch, wishing for a cigarette. You have a hammer that hasn't seen any pussy since the divorce and a hammer that pounded some yesterday, still sticky with blood. There is a knock at the door...role play it.