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The day had started like every other day. I dragged myself away from my favorite world of dreams, I showered, fed myself, then finally woke up. I'd finished my algebra and U.S. Studies homework the night before and was ready for another dreaded day of school. I finalized the brushing of my teeth and left for the hallway that would take me to the outside world. A decent pair of running shoes were slipped onto my feet and I opened the door, feeling the welcoming call of spring. There was something I looked forward to. A warm summer full of flowers, butterflies, and the occasional bee sting I'd grown nostalgic of. I stepped outside and began my walk to school.

The streets seemed empty as I made my way through them. Though, I guess they were already barren, this being a small town and all. Two kids about my age were standing by a tree, one boy and one girl. The boy was kissing the girl on the neck, as if he were sinking his teeth into her like he was a vampire. I scoffed, imagining how much trouble they would be in for being late to school. I tugged on my back-pack strap and pulled it further up my back, putting one foot in front of the other. Once I'd arrived at school, things were the same as usual. My friends were all at the table we normally sat at, talking and laughing. Soon, I was there with them. We talked about the previous day's work and shared answers, copying and rearranging. After a small bit of time, the bell toned for the initiation of first period.

First period was as slow as ever, Algebra I. We talked about I don't remember what, then moved onto second period. I turned in the homework for U.S. Studies and wrote down notes regarding the Cold War in the 1940's. The quarrels taking place on the 38th line in Korea didn't interest me, but I still thought of all the poor soldiers that had died during this pointless thing. I never understood killing, and why everyone couldn't just get along with everyone else. I understood differences, but why couldn't we accept them? I didn't spend too much time pondering it, for fear I'd become a bit more philosophical than necessary. Third period blew by with the wind that hit my face as I jogged around the school's track. My legs fell asleep at one point and I ended falling over. I was extremely embarrassed, but got back up and continued with the class. We played soccer for the final part of it and headed onto fourth period.

This. Fourth period. This is where everything changed.

I left for the locker room after swiping sweat from my brow, walking alongside my friend Soloman. He was an African-American guy. Funny, athletic, smart. Overachiever. I made fun of him a lot for the last bit. Everything was wonderful, however, and we'd been friends for three years. We talked about this girl he'd been interested recently and how he was going to go to her Sweet Sixteen after school today. I clapped him on the back and smiled immaturely. "Go get 'em, tiger," I told him with a smile. He gave me a sarcastic laugh as we entered the locker room, then changed to regular clothing. After this, we walked to the fork of the school hallways and split up, going to our separate classes. I walked up to the second floor and popped the combination of my locker, readying myself for fourth period. I pulled my Independent Living binder out and set it on top of the rows of lockers when an announcement turned on over the speakers of the halls. "To all students!" a voice blared out in a worried fashion. "Leave the school grounds immediately! Get out and go ho-No, no! NO! Stay away from me!" the male voice cried. A loud gurgle was heard after the man screamed once more. The sound of a bone snapping echoed, then, silence. I stood in shock after listening to what sounded like flesh being ripped apart and dropped the books in my hand. As if that was the cue, hundreds of students came rushing out of classrooms screaming. Many kids were pushed down and trampled. I stood to the side of the hall, sure to remain out of anyone's way. I didn't see any of my friends, just familiar students fighting to leave the school. Slowly, after a majority of the students had disappeared, I made my way downstairs. What I saw at the bottom of the steps scarred my eyes. I don't believe I'll ever be able to remove the image I saw from my head.

At the bottom of the stairs of the first floor was an average-looking man. Despite one feature. This man's face and upper body was doused in blood. And he was eating someone. He leaned over a screaming girl who he had pinned to the ground. She struggled and squirmed underneath him. The next moment seemed to play in slow motion as I waited for it to happen. The man lifted his head up, his jaw unhinged and gaping open. The girl's face grew in shock as she realized what was happening, long after I already had. Her eyes widened in fear as she let out an ear-splitting, blood-curdling scream. The man then brought his face down and sank his fangs into her stomach, tearing the shirt and skin away from it. The girl's eyes rolled back and she let out an even louder scream, He then proceeded with further torturing the girl, digging his hands into her gaping abdomen and ripping out her organs. I trembled in place as I watched the man...no... monster , take a bite out of the girl's intestines. She was still alive. I felt sick. My stomach oscillated and I doubled over to throw up. My vomit ran down the stairs and mixed with the girls blood, making me heave once more. The beast of a person turned his attention from the girl, who was gasping for breath as she squirmed on the floor like a beheaded worm, to me. It looked me straight in the eyes and began making its way to its feet. I woke up and ran down the rest of the stairs, past the monster, and down the hall to the exit of the building. I saw the same scene over and over. Students on the ground being eaten alive. I looked down to the floor to keep from seeing this, but even then the only thing I could see were the puddles of blood I ran through.

I ran through the streets, watching dead people walk around aimlessly. My breath became heavy as I began to think of my friends and family. Where they were and if they were okay. Before I knew it, I was home. I turned the knob to find the door was unlocked. Slowly, I opened it. No one was home. "Thank God," I thought, and continued inside. I'd always thought of a time like this. When zombies would run about the world and survivors would do the same. The only difference was the survivors had to kill to survive. I took a bag from a drawer in my room and filled it with cans of food, two bottles of water, a can opener, and some paper and pencils. I closed up the bag and began to leave when I remembered something I'd received for Christmas from my crazy uncle. I returned to my room and pulled a black, sleek katana from the top of a shelf. I removed the blade from the hard sheath it was hidden in and looked at it, admiring the deepness of its color. I returned the sword to the covering and fastened the weapon to a belt loop on my shorts. A pack of AA batteries went into my jacket pocket for safe measures and I left.

Thus began my new life. I spent the rest of my days wandering about, rummaging through trash and old buildings. I'd grown accustomed to hacking zombies and hostile people apart, unafraid of the consequences God had for me after it all. I'd killed many people and many things. One time, I came close to being eaten alive by a group of the dead. I'd cornered myself while being chased by a horde when suddenly, a group of survivors showed up and pulled me away from them. I'd stayed with them for a night, shared my adventures, ate food, slept, then left early before anyone could notice. I'd failed, however, and one person, the leader, caught me. "Where are you going?" he asked me. I turned my head, but I didn't look at him.

"I can't stay here. I have to be alone," I told him.

"You don't have to be. You can stay here with us. We can feed you, shelter you. We could use someone like you."

I turned my visage from the trees to my right to the mossy ground I stood on. I wanted to accept his offer. I wanted to turn around and return to the warm campfire. There'd even been a girl who'd taken interest to me. But I didn't. I raised my head and looked onto the road ahead. I had to be alone. I couldn't care for anyone and no one could care for me. If I were alone, I wouldn't have to worry about others. Others wouldn't have to risk themselves for me. I shook my head. "Thank you, really. I'd love to become a part of your family...but...I can't," I finalized.

I couldn't see him do it, but I knew he nodded. "I see..." he said quietly. "Well...good luck out there...it's a dangerous and crazy world, even more so than it was before. Maybe some day it'll all be over and we can return to normal, happy lives."

I almost smiled at his hopefulness, but put one foot in front of the other. I now understood the reason to killing. It was to survive. To come out on top above all others. Whether you do it alone or with another, you had to kill to remain the victor. You had to be the one that stayed alive. To move onto the next day. To see your destiny is fulfilled.

And so, I continued on my way, indulging myself into hell.