F*** Cancer, This One Did Us All In.

35. Now I really am alone.

  I didn't wait. Couldn't waste a second. Not another second. I ran. I ran till my legs were sore. Till my heart was pounding. Till my lungs burnt. Then I ran some more. I collapsed on the ground, my head a million razors. A pill should help me through that.

  I found a dustbin, crawled into it, and fell asleep.

  I woke up and ran. I ran. I ran. I was starving - oh my god so hungry - but I wouldn't risk it.

  My family is out there. My family is out there!

  I walked and I ran. I ate and I slept. Everything I did, everything I did, became repetitive. Monotonous. But still scary. Still terrifying.

  The Flesh-eaters would pop out and my head aches would get worse. I never realised how much I needed my hearing till it was blasted halfway to hell. So many close calls. Too many close calls.

  Did you know that you can scare a human alot easier than a Flesh-eater if you have a gun? Humans had food. I needed food. Not too much, I wouldn't take everything. But I needed to survive.

  My family.

  I tried to find cars with keys, but none of them had, and those that did finished far too quickly.

  So I ran. Because it was the least I deserved.

  Day turned to night. Night turned to day. It happened over and over.

  I couldn't cry anymore. Couldn't waste my tears.

  (Although I still found tears to waste, alone at night with nothing but my thoughts.)

  Blood. Blood. Blood. It was my first and only shield against the Flesh-eaters. I found it everywhere. I let it cover me. Protect me. My very own Repellent.

  Despite that, I never stayed in one place for too long. Couldn't risk it. I slept for only a few hours. Moved all the time. I ate while I moved. Because I couldn't waste a second. I had to get there. I had to get home.

  There was vomit. There were tears. There was blood. But it would all be worth it, all be worth it.

  Because there it was.

  A one story house with red, white, and green walls. The fence wasn't tall but was electrocuted. At least, if there had been electricity.

  It hurt me. Scraped me. Cut me. But that was the least I deserved. I climbed over the fence, hit the ground in a heap of moans and forced myself to my feet.

  It was my house.

  Would they be in there?

  Don't think like that.

  But what if -

  No!

  I walked to the front door, saw that it was broken. I pulled out my gun and hissed in pain. My hands had lashes all along them, where the wires had cut into me. But I couldn't think about the pain. I just held the gun in front of me. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

  "Hello!" I called out because if my family was there then my problem was over. If there were any other humans then I could explain my situation. Or point a gun at them.

  What if there were Flesh-eaters?

  Then I would shoot them.

  Just shoot them?

  No, kill them.

  Would you?

  I would.