Saturday, November 6, 2010
I've been walking this desolate city for three sunsets and have only run into a handful of zombies. Yesterday I started noticing scriptures written on some of the walls so I know I have to be headed in the right direction. The latest one read "And I will smite the inhabitants of this city, both man and beast: they shall die of a great pestilence - Jeremiah 21:6". It almost seems like this weirdo is leaving me a trail of bead crumbs to follow. Like he wants to be found. Lately the only way I've been able to get through my days is imagining what I'm going to to do The Pastor once I get a hold of him. Imagining really bad things. Things that would probably make the manliest of men cry like a 10 year old with a skinned knee. After walking this long I finally reached a neighborhood.....what's left of it at least. Cars are sitting in the middle of the road, some with doors open. As I get closer to take a look i notice that some of these cars still have bodies in them. Decomposed and partially dismembered. Poor people. Poor weak people. I continue to walk down the streets and for some reason it's starting to look very familiar to me. Like maybe I've been here before. I continue to walk down the street that's littered with debris and I spot a bush of pink roses. I remember how much she liked pink roses. The sadness starts filling my body and my eyes well up with tears just a little bit. I look up at the house the bush belongs to and that's when I realize.......this is my home. I walk up to the porch as the tears roll down my face. This is, was, my life. The door is unlocked as always. She used to tell me that I was way too trusting. I walk in and see the house in the same condition it was when I left it, like a war zone. All the memories are coming back to me like a tidal wave. I grab a picture off the wall and the tears fall on it like rain on a window. It's a picture of my wife and daughter. The night the horde attacked they didn't stand a chance. They came in the middle of the night. I tried to save them but before I knew it they both had been overwhelmed by them. I don't know if my heart can take being in this place anymore. I'm squeezing the picture frame so hard that it snapped and the glass completely busted. I grab the picture and slowly fold it up as the tears continue to fall. I stick it in my pocket and turn head straight towards the door. The blood covered hand prints stained on the walls stopped me in my tracks. That's when I spot a note on the floor. I pick it up and it reads "Aiden, I'm sorry about last night. I know we shouldn't fight over petty things. I think I may have scared Betty with my yelling. I just hope that as soon as you read this note in the morning you'll get your ass off the couch and come to the room and accept my apology. -Amy" I swear, if I hadn't slept on the couch that night I would have been able to protect them. The last day that my wife was alive I spent it on the couch pissed off at her and I didn't even get to tell my little Betty goodnight or give her my usual four kisses. One on her forehead, one on her nose and one over each closed eye. I miss them. so much. The sadness turns into anger as grab my bat and start swinging at everything in sight. I can't be here a second more and continue to remember this house this way. I slam the bat into cabinets and tables that shatter like it was made from glass. I know exactly how to make this all go away. I make my way to the garage and grab my gas can. I do exactly what needs to be done to help me move past this. I pour gasoline over anything and everything that I can. I go to the kitchen and grab the only box of matches in the counter and walk towards the front door. At this point the sound of the match scrapping against the box is like music to my ears. Goodbye Amy. Goodbye Betty. I love you both so very much. I drop the match and walk away from my past.