Survivors Chapter Six

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I sat on the couch, motionless. As soon as Caroline left, I let all my anger out. I threw the cans from the grocery out the window. I chucked them as far as I could throw. Which, suprisingly, was really far. 

After I realized what I had done, I bashed my pillow on the floor. Tears went down my face faster than rain. My face swelled up and became red as a tomato. I just didn't understand. I wanted to help, but I couldn't. Maybe if that girl hadn't passed out in front of me, I would have been fine. I would have been downstairs eating with Caroline, Father, and all the other survivors from our dorm. We would get to play board games and waste our time doing worthless crap. I wouldn't have realized that people need help. That people were suffering. And those people lived footsteps away from us. 


I spent the rest of the day in my room. Eventually, I did move to Father's rocking chair and had a few smokes to let it all out. The release of every puff was generally relaxing. Back before the walkers, they taught us to never smoke. Smoking is bad. Smoking hurts you. Smoking kills you. Smoking causes lung cancer. Smoking polutes the air. Do think this was a time to care about those things? Not at all. If your gonna die anyway, who cares if they get lung cancer. Definetly not me. No one on this campus cared. 

When the sun began to set, I decided I needed to move. Staring out the window all day didn't do any good. It wasn't like the world was going to magically fix itself. I headed for the door. My legs felt like jelly from rocking all day. The door creaked open and I almost fell down the steps. I was dizzy. Side effects of smoking. 

Downstairs, it was quiet. Father was sitting with his old friends at the table. Candles were lit and the playing cards were out. The man sitting to the right of Father placed two cards upside down right next to the candle. Everyone glanced at their own cards.

"Bulls**t," Father declared, and the man jumped up and picked up the cards laying in the middle of the table. He threw them at Father and laughed. Then silence.

No one noticed me. Even the creaking of the floor didn't seem to startle the men as they focused on their game. I watched them from behind the steps for a few minutes. The burning candle in the center of the table eventually went out.

"God," Father said. He pulled a box of matches out of his shirt pocket and struck a flame. The card game continued. The ongoing game of bulls**t and chuckling went on. But I wasn't just going to sit there all day. If they weren't going to pay attention to anything but the game, I decided to make a quick trip over to dorm four. The guilt was fading away, but it still remained engraved in me. 

I made a plan. I was going to sneak a few cans of food from the pantry. Then I would sneak out of the dorm through the kitchen window. Somehow, I would get the cans to dorm four. Hopefully, this could all be done before dark. Before the guns. Before the screams. The walkers are always more active at night. That's when the other survivors, somewhere in the woods, begin to die. One by one, their screams and gunshots go off. And there was no way I would be outside for that.

My number one priority: Deliver the cans without getting caught, before the nightmare.

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