desolation

|one|

desolation

Copyright 2015 ©

Disclaimer - I do not own any of the rights to The Walking Dead nor am I associated with the show or comics in any way whatsoever. This is simply a work of fanmade fiction. It is not intended to offend anyone. I do, however, own all of my own plots, characters such as Katerina "Kit" Bradley, and any changes I make to previously existing characters. Thank you.

   Pain. It was all I had left. The only emotion that I was still capable of feeling. It was everywhere and in everything. It was present both physically and psyhcologically and torturing in a way I didn't even know how to explain. My pain extended far beyond the wounds that could be seen by the naked eye. I saw pain in each passing tree and each shred of overgrown grass, slowly withering away as the summer drought left it parched, nothing left to do but simply give up on life and allow death to take it's tole. In each empty highway with cars that would never be moved I found it unbearable to get my mind to stop wandering off, thinking about what happened to the owners of the blue cadiliac or the brown SUV. But most of the time, I didn't have to wonder, because my answer was typically found in the form of a decaying body banging on the window.

   There were very few things left in this world, and the good things like hope and wishfullness were slwoly fading with the seasons; but pain is eternal. As long as there's life, there's pain.

   With each step I took my feet sunk further into the ground. For the first time in months it was raining, and I didn't know whether or not I should be thankful. I could still remember last year when the so called April Showers left be drenched in rain water for three days, leaving me with the nastiest cold I have had in years. And, unfortunately, they did not bring any of the rumored May Flowers, rather it brought grass that came up to my knees and corpses that were determined to eat my ass alive. Thanks God, I thought sarcastically, trying to pull my hood closer to my face in attempt to block the water from my face, Good to know I can count on you. Next time you and Mother Nature should get together and throw me in a swarm of walkers while I'm on my period. That would make for a good show, dontcha think?

   So far I had been walking for about nine days, and I still wasn't quite sure of my destination. I had a knack for taking random backroads and seeing where it was they lead me. Sometimes, it's fantastic places I will never be able to forget. Other times its mistakes that left scars which will last for a lifetime. In two years my body has been more polluted by wounds that will never fully heal than most experience in a lifetime. I have memories that would give a person nightmares that continue long after the sun rises and scars that would make a veteran tear-up. But these were all things that came along with being a part of this world, and I understood that, because there was no option in understanding. You either understood or died, whether it was by your own hands or someone-something-elses.

   Death often coencided with pain, sort of like a sickening partner-in-crime. They had been around since the dawn of time and they would be here up until the very end, but the worst part about it all was since the world went to Hell and God ran away from the mess he had conjured up so long ago, it was much more common. Of course, people died every day, each one adding another tally mark to the amount of lost souls with no where to go, but I would say death rates have went up quite a bit, especially if you count the amount of the undead dying yet again. Frequently, though, people simply opted out. In my experience, the mass majority opted out. Be it by rope or gun fire they found an escape to this awful world. In some ways, I envy those with enough courage to not only point the gun at themselves, but also pull the trigger.