Fear

Beginnings

"Do you think our world will ever be the same again? Do you think we will ever feel safe?" I asked staring at nothing in particular. The gash on my head was slowly dripping blood into my eyes. My hands were violently shaking in my lap. The unknown man stood across the room with his arms crossed, he was first person who I've seen alive look like a non-crazy human. Most people nowadays were just as bad as the zombies.
"I mean maybe it will be easier if we just ended it, you know? Instead of constantly living in fear, knowing that maybe this will be the day that we finally get ripped apart and turned into a flesh eating zombie."
Gunshots rang out from outside followed by a blood gurgling scream. The man walked over to the window and closed the curtains, shadows fell over the apartment's walls. He knelt down in front of me.
"You're in shock, you just need some rest and you will be fine." He grabbed a wet washcloth from a bowl filled with water on the coffee table and gently started to wash the blood away from my face. I grabbed his wrist and looked into his light green eyes.
"I'm scared, it doesn't matter if I'm in shock or not. I will always be scared." Tears rolled down my cheeks. "I don't want to become a monster."

I passed out before he could say anything and woke up hours later. It was pitch black outside and the candles gently caused a dim glow to bounce off the small apartments walls. My unknown savoir was nowhere to be seen. My head was throbbing and a large bandage covered my wound.
A door was slammed shut and I jumped out of my seat. I grabbed the nearest object which happened to be a small letter opener and aimed it towards the front door. The man who saved me walked backwards into the room with a large sniper rifle aim towards the door. He turned his head towards me and placed a finger up to his lips, signaling for me to stay silent.
I stared wide eyed at the door and heard shuffling feet that was followed by soft groans passed the apartment. We sat there listening as the footsteps descended down the flight of stairs. He cautiously opened the door and checked the hallways. Closing the door again, he locked it and shoved the dining room table in front of it.
He placed his gun on the table and his worn out, large army backpack next to it. He glanced over to me while rummaging through the bag, he gave me a small smirk. "What, were you going to do? Poke me to death with a letter opener."
I placed the opener on the coffee table and made my way over to him. He was placing a couple of cans of food on the table and pulled at some plastic forks from a cupboard in the kitchen.
"You hungry?" He asked.
"What's your name?" I asked, skipping over his question.
"Thomas." He answered while opening a can of beans. "And yours?"
"Skyler."

We ate on the living room floor in silence. Until he spoke up, " You can stay, it would be better than being alone on the streets."
It took me a while to reply, images ran through my head. I was hiding behind a dumpster, a horde of zombies were shuffling by when I was grabbed from behind. It was my first time in the city and I didn't think there was other people here. A group of survivors, two men and a women. They tried to take advantage of me and that horrible woman just laughed as she watched. I was lying there with my eyes slammed shut, I didn't want to look into the faces of those monsters. I heard gunshots, and shouting. When I did finally force open my eyes, Thomas was aiming towards the running remaining man and woman. Thomas saved me and I knew I could trust him.
"I want to stay, thank you." I gave a smile in his direction.

Thomas allowed me to stay in his room, since it was the only bed in the apartment. I declined at first but was tempted at the soft pillows and warm covers, I haven't slept in a bed in months. He gave me clothes to sleep in for now, until we could wash my ones I had on. He handed a pair of black boxers and a black sweatshirt that had a picture of a Sherwood High mascot and Thomas's name on the back.
There was a gallon of water in the adjacent bathroom which I cleaned myself up with and threw on the borrowed clothes. I looked into the cracked and dusty mirror and stared at my reflection. My hair, which was a dusty color from all the dirt and dried blood was now it's original color thanks to its washing. It was pale blonde. My eyes were light blue and had large dark circles under them from the countless sleepless nights.
Thomas was looking out the window when I emerged from the bedroom and made my way into the living room. I sat on the couch and and muttered a small hello. He turned from the window sat on the love seat across from me. We sat there and talked about what we missed about the old days, movies, books, video games, things that could pass the time mostly. Now it seemed like hours lasted like days.
We sat there and talked until the sun came up until I gave out a yawn and rubbed my exhausted eyes. We said our good nights and the minute my head hit the soft pillow, I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

A couple of weeks passed and we mostly sat on the couch and talked. When the third week of me being here passed, Thomas announced that we were running out food and he needed to make a run for supplies. I offered to go but deep down we both knew I was still terrified to walk out of the house. He was gathering up his backpack and loading his rifle when I walked over to him.
"When are you coming back?" I asked, watching as he pack up his bag.
"It should only be a couple of hours, six max." Thomas looked at me and slung the gun strap over his shoulder. Facing me he asked, "Are you going to be okay by yourself."
"I'll be fine, just come back please."
He pulled me into a hug ," I'll come back, I've done this hundreds of times." He pulled away and grabbed the bag and shut the door behind him.
I locked the door and just stood there. I didn't know what to do with myself. I decided to go wash my old close, I was still wearing Thomas's clothes he gave to me.
I filled the bathtub with some water and soap. I washed the blood and dirt out of the fabric and hung them out to dry. I wandered through the apartment and studied the interior, pictures of unknown people, who were probably long dead hanged on the wall.
When my clothes were finally dry, I threw Thomas's clothes on the bed and got dressed. I only had a pair of light washed skinny jeans, and plain black t-shirt. I threw on Thomas's sweatshirt back on and laid on the couch. I fell into a deep sleep and hoped when I woke up he would be back.

(Skyler's Picture)