"I remember.." I whisper to myself.
I remember before all of this. Before the dead walked. Before they ate the living. Before all hell broke loose. Back when someone's problems might include forgetting their homework or having a fight with their friends. Or maybe, if they were older, losing their job, or breaking their brand new phone.
I lean back against the concrete wall, listening to the sounds of the dead. They all have such different voices. Almost as if they're real, living people. It's funny, they're really quite loud. It's nothing like the peace brought by the real dead. The ones who haven't come back.
The moans and chomping haven't gotten to me for a while. It's amazing how simple it is to adapt to something as brutal and horrific as this.
But now that I'm listening, really listening, the chills run down my spine and my shoulders move uncomfortably once more . I can feel the hairs raising all over my body. My right leg taps nervously, something it's always done. I force it to stop. I have to stay quiet. Stay quiet or die.
Although really, what would it be to die? It's just one less person in this species. We're all screwed anyway. I blink with my wet eyes and swallow with my dry throat.
I think back. From life right before this hell on Earth known as the apocalypse to now. Because now... cornered in this dark damp room, there's nothing to do but think. Think and wait and maybe take a piss. And try to survive. Because through this there will be life. There has to be.