Edited because it was littered with mistakes. enjoy. I don't know if I'll be updating the blog more or just leave it. I'm pretty busy.
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My name is Alyssa Gugliotti, 16 now. I guess most would have
called me a Goth or something. Label’s. I used to live with my mom in a 2 bedroom
apartment in a town about 30 minutes from Boston, on a good day in traffic.
I lead a simple life. Wake up; go to school; come home; do my homework;
make dinner; wait for mom to come home; go to bed.
I’m not sure how Boston was infected, but I heard it
originally started in upper New York. I’ve heard other reports, all different
stories, most blaming the government and taxes, some blaming Doctors and mad scientist.
All I know was that my mother never came home… And I will probably never see
her again.
It was a
nice day when I walked home. Spring, ‘Disturbed’ blaring from my headphones.
School had been good that day, since most of the other kids where off on a
field trip to see fish in the Boston Aquarium, I had caught up on reading ‘The
Fire Starter’ By Stephen King. I remember singing along to ‘Down with the
Sickness’ as I walked when I first found out what was happening.
I was attacked.
It was quick, a tug from my ponytail and Wham! I slammed my head against the
ground, I was seeing stars but I waved my hands around pushing away what I
though was maybe a girl, or some was guy picking a fight with me. I got up. I
smelled it, before I saw it. My eyes watering between the smell of rot and
decay all I could hear were ringing and the song blaring in my ears. It stood
up about a foot taller over my five-foot frame.
He was
dressed in a business suit; blood and other liquids coated the front. Its face
was ripped open, and his suit was dirty, blood stained his shirt and suit coat…
He stumbled forward at me, the smell over coming me more as I stepped back and
panicked when I heard the song “It seems that all that was good has died,
And is decaying in me” The lyrics to that song… It was enough to make me
take off in a brisk run around the corner to the apartment building that my mom
and I shared. I locked the door and shivered at the bottom, trying to take in
what had happened.
It
wasn’t until the next morning when I heard a crash outside that I panicked. I
woke up from the couch realizing mom never came home before; her stuff normally
littered the door way which was bare. I looked down from our third story window
seeing a woman in a jogging suit being eaten by another one. I turned on the TV
in the kitchen, and started to look for signs of my mother; maybe she was in a panic
and didn’t do her normal routine.
I almost
missed what they said. I thought I was dreaming, until they repeated it.
A “Virus” had started to go around making people eat each other.
Stay inside and quarantine the sick, or bitten. It looped two or
three times before I decided to watch it. I sat in front of the TV taking in
the video feed. A couple of shots in Boston I swore I could see my fellow classmates
running for their lives. There were rumors on out breaks and information on
what to do if an infected came near you.
I
watched until noon. Mom had not shown up; she had not gotten me up from school.
I was extremely scared and wanted to go to my mothers work, a dinner off of
Glenwood and Cherry Street. It was only 15 minutes, I told myself. I did start
to get dressed, and run around the house picking up my tracfone, my iPod and my
wallet before I started to think strait. Whatever those things where… If
there was a panic about them, I would never make it. I thought about what my
mother had always told me “If it looks dangerous, it probably is. Don’t be a
fool and kill yourself” Of course, she said this so I wouldn’t try drugs
however... I had a feeling that it would help in this scenario. Everything was
in a panic and from the noise level it seemed I was clear for a bit… Nonetheless
my mother…
I took
another look out the same window as earlier and saw the attacked woman get up.
I slid down the wall desperate but alone and helpless in the scenario and cried
for what seemed like forever.
From
that day lead to another day, and another. I started to hear screams from other
apartments. I stopped eating so much to save food, stored water and waited. The
TV went out first, and then the electricity. It was about a whole 13 days
before I was low on food and the water shut off. I decided to leave; I knew my
mother wasn’t coming back. I went into her room and found pictures and other
things to remind me of her; her wedding ring from my father, who had been gone
for years now, and slipped it on my finger. I packed some clothes in my backpack,
which I had never used until now. As well as some food, a non-electric can
opener and a few other things I would need. I knew they wouldn’t be used but I
took my Tracfone iPod and wallet. Perhaps out of habit. At least if I died I
would have my id on me.
The
outfit I chose was a tight one. Stuff I would never have worn before. Some old
skinny jeans I had and one of my mom’s old tank tops. I wore my sweatshirt and
my Vans. I was not a fan of them but I knew they would be more comfortable then
my converse after a good deal of walking.
‘A
weapon’… I remember thinking. ‘I need a weapon’ the news had reported that to
kill them, you had to destroy the brain; it was the only way to kill them. I
remembered my mother’s hand gun; she carried it for protection sometimes. I
went and checked for it in her room, to my surprise it was there. I took that
and the ammo it had. I knew how to use it but I didn’t really want to so I
stashed it away for emergencies. It was a little while of searching when I
found a hatchet. I wondered why we had it, but I figured we must have had it
for some time; we did used to live next to a wooded area. It was old and the
handle had a bit of rust, it would have to do.
I was
about to go when I ran my hands though my long hair. It had almost gotten me
killed a week before. I had to make a choice, keep it and have the same thing
happen as before… Or chop it off. I felt the tears run down my face
as I chopped off my beloved hair with scissors. My hair was now uneven,
a pile of hair on the. My hair close cut to my head and very shaggy. As with
the rest of what I had it would have to do, and with that I opened the door,
and stepped out into the apocalypse.
