Survivors Chapter One

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The nights always seemed so long, dark, and cold. When the sun came up, it felt like a whole new world. Every morning, I could exhale and finally relax. The harsh night of gunshots and screams was over. The sun only remained in the sky for a few rushed hours and then the nightmare would approach us once again.

I pulled my torn up sheets off of my bed and landed my feet on the cold floor. The dust on my shelves rattled and the floor creaked. I took a deep breath and walked across the room to my drawers. The old brown piece of furniture had cracks on every corner. It looked like a piece of rock that just lay in the room. 

A mirror sat on top of the dresser. It was covered in dust and was shattered in pieces. I peered into the mirror and it gazed back at me. I pulled my auburn hair to the side and tied it off with a ponytail holder. My deep blue eyes seemed to stare at me through the mirror. It is hard to believe that my own eyes could haunt me, but anything is possible. No one ever expected to see the dead strolling aimlessly on the streets, day after day, depleting the population of our world. 

I pulled my t-shirt over my head and put on a ripped pair of jeans. Or jeggings. Skinny jeans are to uncomfortable to run in. I slipped on a pair of combat boots and slowly walked out of the room.

The kitchen was dark. A musty smell crawled into my nose. I knew that smell. Cigarettes. The floor creaked as I walked over to the window. Father was sitting in his rocking chair, smoking a cigarette, while watching the sun come up.

"Father," I whispered. Her turned his head and glanced at me. He was holding a pack of cigarettes in his dry hands. He released the cigarette from his fingers and tossed it out the window. Smoke flew out of Father's mouth. 

"You comin'," he mumbled. There was an awkward pause. What the hell is he talking about, I thought. 

"The run," Father said, "it's today. I was thinking we head over to the old Albert's Groc'. Haven't seen a walker in that direction. It ain't supposed to rain today, you know. The walkers don't favor the sun. We need to go now. I want ya to come."

I pushed my hair behind my ears and took a deep breath. "Guess I'll come. What supplies do we need? And when was the last run to Albert's? How do ya know there ain't no walkers there?"

"Look, I know. Ya think I just sit by the window doin' nothin' all day!" Father stood up and slammed the cigarette pack on the table. I fell backwards in suprise.

"Father, settle. I trust you. We'll go. Just me and you?"

"Yea. I don't want to ask Jodie."

"Still grieving?"

"Yup," Father said under his breath, "Bob was a good man, ya know, but everyone has their time. Everyone's gonna die. Them walkers, they uncontrollable. We'r lucky we'r here." I picked up the pack of cigarettes and struck a match.

"Just one?" I asked while holding the burning cigarette in my hand.

"Ones a plenty, but go ahead. I'll let ya relax. Today's gonna be a long day."

I sat down in Father's old rocking chair and blew into the cigarette. It felt good. I watched the sun rise into the sky. In the distance, walkers were standing around, wasting time wondering who to turn next. Well, they weren't really thinking. They were just there. There were different than us. They were cannibals without a brain. In other words, they were humans who lost their innocence. 

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