Running

Running. That’s all I ever do anymore. Run. Always being chased. Always just trying to survive. I don’t know where to go anymore. Not like I ever did either. Zombies. Undead parasites, roaming everywhere, blood dripping down their rotting chests, searching for their next meal. I don’t know how this began but now I’m stuck in this post-apocalyptic world and I’m broken…
I just made it out of the city today. Passing by the surrounding neighborhoods, I came across a house in the suburbs with a deflated balloon tied to the fence. Out back there was a festive banner that read “Happy Birthday, Chelsea!” That wasn’t the only thing back there. Dead bodies of small children were scattered on the green grass that was now painted in red. Entrails were stretched out around them and limbs were missing. They still wore party hats, their faces twisted in bloody horror. Eyes stared up at me, blank and lifeless. I doubled over and vomited profusely and my eyes stung from the stench of the decaying children. I couldn’t breathe and fell in a lake of blood and vomit.
I don’t know how long I was out; just that when I woke up I thought I was dead and a freaking zombie. My throat was dry and I had an extreme thirst that felt unquenchable. Exhausted and numb. I looked around and remembered where I was and what had happened.
Breathe. 1...2...3...4. Breathe. 1…2…3…4. Breathe.
Once I came to my senses I left there as quickly as I could manage and didn’t look back.
This world is over.
I will survive.