Oh So Odd

Hope

      Charlettes P.O.V

     Well, this is our way of life now. Trying our best to keep breathing when youre hunted by walking corpse. My name is Charlette Wilson and the dead have been walking for about 3 years, at least that's what my 3 times drawn over agenda says. Its hard to live nowadays, I have been accompanied by my parents luckly. Well, I was with my parents. We found camp somewhere near a community of houses, they were run down but life was finally looking up. About a week into that I woke up to a letter apologizing and saying they loved me. To my favor they left me a bottle of water and one granola bar, but that's it. That happened about a year ago. Im 14 now but you wouldn't know it, I act as if im 3.

     The reason for that is to try and forget about what's going on outside of the tent I call home. I don't know how I made it this long but i'm here and I guess that's ok. Some other groups have come across me trying to take me in but all found that I was too weak.  I'm not going to lie to you, I have a small frame and doe eyes but i'm not completely defenseless. Well, I don't think I am. Either way, I've made it this far and if that doesn't count for something I don't know what does.

     I'm in the woods wandering around, the bag i've been living off of in hand. It holds various items, water bottles, my tent, my 2 spare changes of clothes, a hairbrush, toothbrush, tampons, stuff  like that. One of the things I don't have is a knife or anything for protection really. I don't kill, and I try not to hurt people. The only living thing I have hurt was a girl who was maybe 17 at the time. She tried taking the one thing that keeps me sane besides poetry, my stuffed bear named Gideon.

      This sounds ridiculous and childish but he has been there to lull me to sleep when  all I could hear was the groaning of the dead. You would never think something so small could keep you together until it's the only thing that you've had since birth and the only thing you have left.

     My thoughts are interrupted as I hear a twig snap behind me. I turn around to see nothing, I'm probably just hearing things. Looking down at the watch on my right wrist, I sigh as the hands tell me, almost mockingly, that it is 5:00pm. Through the last line of trees my eyes spot a small market. Well, might as well see what this shabby place has to offer. The doors are fogged over, with what looked like dried blood and some bodily contents I'd rather not think about.

     Ok lets do this. I bash on the door with a nearby stick a couple of times. It's still light out, which means its hot here in Georgia. It always is. After no response from anything in the market, I open the doors. Well, this isn't good. The doors being open means its been raided, most likely more than once. I hope I get lucky.

     Looking around, this place isn't so bad off. There are some shelves that are stocked and even a little boutique clothing section. There was blood on the check out register and only a couple severed limbs scattered around. I unzipped my bag to see there wasn't space for much anything. Well, lets make this work somehow.

     On the shelves closest to the register there was only a couple canned goods and baby formula. I'll come back to that. Making my way over to the clothing I found a pink sweater with a white line through it, some cute socks, pink overalls, a watermelon shirt and some white converse. I'm currently wearing a maroon sweater with gray sweatpants and some converse from last year. I shoved what I found into my bag and made my way to the food I found next to the check out counter.

     I started to look at what there was to offer. I saw some corn and other canned vegitables and just started shoving them into my bag. There were about 7 cans all together so I was stashing them away. My hand went up to grab the 3 boxes of baby formula when I was stopped.

     "Put the formula down, and turn around slowly".

     The person who possessed this voice had a strong southern drawl, more prominent than usual. I didn't want to fight, sure I've been held at stick point before but this was mortifying. I slowly put the box down and turn around as slow as possible. This man is rough around the edges, he has longer brown hair with a graying beard to match. I can't speak, I don't want to test this man.

     "Come on Rick, look, she's shaking to the bone."  Another voice comes from behind a shelf. I now notice I am shaking, i'm shaking a lot.  The man,  Rick was his name, finally lowered his gun to replace it with a knife. He then spoke again. "Are you alone" Rick questioned trying to make eyecontact. I refused to look him in the eye but nodded instead. The man in the back looked Korean and much nicer than rick.

     Than another came out. He had the appearance of a redneck, crossbow in hand. His face was pained, like he had seen too much even before this life. Ricks voice was heard again. "Are you lying", the way he asked this question was out of pitty almost. Like he was saddened by the fact I was on my own. It was at this time he lowered his knife.

     "I don't think she's gonna talk", this time the voice belonged to the redneck. They huddled up to discuss what was going to happen to me most likely. Every time one of them spoke I jumed, still frightened by 3 burly men keeping me captive in a tiny market.

     The chattering soon stopped and my hands were crossed in front of me, head down thinking this was it. This will be the day I become one of the deceased. As the Korean man slowed twords me he lowered his weapons, showing that he wouldn't hurt me. At least I hope so. He stops only half a foot in front of me, wearily getting on his knees to go to my height. I am 5'3 and that's pretty short so this act was necessary.

     "Hello, my name is Glenn and those guys are Rick and Dayrl". His voice is soft, maybe they won't kill me. He continues " We know you won't talk right now but we have a place and you can come with us okay?" This suprises me for only a brief moment, then I remember that i'm not good enough for a group. Glenn stays half a foot away and allows me to shake my head yes or no. I stay still and don't move. "We will just have to take your weapons, would you like to come with us?"

     He was talking to me as if I were fragile, a child even, and I couldn't describe the comfort that tone brought me. Thinking over my decisions, it occers to me that there are people in this word that still possess that tone of voice, that aren't monsters who will leave while you sleep. Maybe this is what hope feels like, maybe this will be good.

     I nod my head slowly, a couple minutes have passes since the question was put out to hang in the air. From what I could see with my head still down, Glenn had smiled. Wow, a smile, that is very rare these days. Besides that it was time I handed them my bag. Doing so slowly, Dayrl reached out to take it. Rick was shoving the baby formula in their bag and making his way out the back.

     Glenn put his hand under my face as an invitation to lead me to where we were going. It took me a minute but I grbbed his lone pointer finger and as he started to move, so did I. As we approached a white Honda I start thinking that this may be wrong. Yet as soon as Rick opened the back door for me with a smile, I felt somewhat safe. It's hard to think the man that had a gun pointed at me ten minutes ago was now opening a door for me, but I guess it was a sweet surprise in this bitter world.

     Rick started the car and we went off. To where, I don't know, but it feels like it will be okay. Like everything may be okay for once. I drifted to sleep soon after with the word 'hope' racing through my mind.

(Hey, its the author and please do leave feedback on this, I could always use help. Thanks!)