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Saturday, November 23, 2013

Outbreak - Briana


If the smell wasn’t enough indication as to what was happening inside the house the screams were. It took me a moment to realize that the screams were my own. The scene before me was one that I had never imagined I would ever have to see. Blood covered the open door and soaked my shoes as I peered inside the house. My family, the only people I had left, were laid out on the wooden floor dead. Everyone else I knew was either long gone or dead. I was completely alone.

           My body sagged against the wall with the grief that weighed on my chest. My breath was shallow as I tried to maintain my composure. The world we lived in now wasn’t one where you could be weak. You had to be strong or you wouldn’t survive. A memory surfaced as I felt my body meet the ground.

           “Survival of the fittest,” my dad said softly as he taught Hanna how to use the bow and arrow. “The only way to survive is to be the fastest and the strongest. You can’t show mercy. If you do they will take advantage of that and destroy you.”

          Something out of the corner of my eye moved and I automatically pulled out my swords. The sluggish, clumsy movement of the Treader moved along the ground. It was the body of my mother. The disease had taken over and turned her into the dead thing we all had all feared before the world had gone crazy. One swift movement later and the body stopped struggling along the floor. I quickly got rid of the bodies and pulled out the cleaning supplies we had left over. Burying them would have to wait until I could gather the strength to look at them again without feeling the bile rise.

           The house stunk of iron and Clorox as I moved about the living room tidying up needlessly. My stomach felt like lead and I had to lean against the wall as panic raced through my veins. I suddenly couldn’t breathe and my head was spinning. My chest was extremely too tight as I fell to my knees struggling to breathe. I heard the familiar jingle of my dog’s collar as I felt a wet nose press to my cheek. Oliver whined low in his throat as he nudged himself closer to me. I finally found my grip on reality and pulled myself upright.
         
           “Hey Oliver,” I whispered gently. My throat was still too tight for comfort, but I’d have to deal with it. “I know baby. I know they’re gone.”

            I couldn’t stay here any longer. They’re presence was too strong in this house. I took a shaky breath and stood slowly to go pack a duffle bag full of clothes. I was going to head to my Uncle’s cabin in Sevierville. He had always predicted this was going to happen, but we had all called him crazy. Oh how we were wrong. I walked slowly back to my bedroom. An hour later I was on the road to Sevierville in hopes of finding my only relatives I might have left with my dog by my side.

            Driving through the shopping area that used to be a bustling Tanger Outlet felt incredibly strange. It was like driving through a ghost town. I was waiting for the minute a hoard of Treaders came running out into the street. I stopped to rest in front of an old Nike store and decided I was going to sleep for at least an hour. Reclining my seat I looked towards the ceiling thinking about how quickly the world had gone to crap. The hollow ache in my chest took hold once more as I willed myself to shut my eyes. Sleep was a friend to me in that moment. Every time I closed my eyes all I saw was my family’s faces as they stared blankly at the walls. Being alone in a world this cruel was a scary thought that I didn’t want to face. Not now, not ever. Nothing would ever be the same. I couldn’t dwell in the past and survive the harsh environments the world provided me with.

          A tap on my window startled me so quickly that I bashed my elbow against my emergency break. What I saw couldn’t be real. It was my best friend, Trystan, who I had decided dead like everyone else I knew. I had to be hallucinating. I gently drew my swords into my hands for the second time that day as I pushed the door silently open.

          “Step back,” my voice was hoarse from misuse. Oliver was wagging his tail happily behind me, but I chose to ignore him and shut the door. I didn’t need him interfering, “You can’t be real. Honestly, Trystan, of all places you’re here? I’m going crazy.”

          “What are you talking about, Bri?” She asked wildly as she eyed the weapons in my hands. “If I’m not real then why is Oliver acting like that? If I was a hallucination he wouldn’t be able to see me.”

         I bit the inside of my cheek feeling my inner battle. I desperately wanted to believe her. “Have you been bitten?”

          “No,” she answered. Her voice was soft and I could hear the underlying sadness. “Emily was though.”

          “Where is she?” My world apparently could get worse.

          “Dead.” The finality in her tone broke my heart.

           I took a breath before asking the question I dreaded. “Did you have to-“

          She cut me off with a brisk, “Yes.”

         I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. I sheathed my swords and lunged myself at her. My arms wrapped around her in a tight hug. We took a moment to share our grief as I told her about my family. I told her of my plans to find my Uncle and she agreed to come with me. Maybe my world was looking up a bit with someone I knew and trusted by my side.



-Briana Griffin
Follow me on instagram and twitter! @perksofbriana

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