There are so many of us, each one different and yet the same. Some of us still have all our limbs, others walk around without even most of their arms or part of their faces missing. Some can walk, others are so sick all they can do is lay around and hope for furry things to come near for a possible meal. At least I am still in one piece. A little skinnier but no nearly as bad as those poor girls who constantly cry. I was skinny as a human but her figure is just…painful to look at. I'm sorry, I'm rambling aren't I? You'll have to forgive me, my thoughts are so scattered these days. But even that is more then I can say occurs in the minds of my brothers and sisters. All they do is lay or stumble around, getting excited only when they fight or when food is in sight. I must admit even I get rather excited when…they, are in my sights, but unlike my siblings I do not rush for them. At least, I try. I don't want to eat them. I don't want to kill them. I'm not like the others. I'm different then them. I remember.
I remember my life before the Infection. At least, I remember some of it. I remember a few faces, voices, a memory or two perhaps, and a name. A single name. Whether it's my name or not I can't say. I just remember a name. And….the color green. That's all. Samantha. Just, Samantha. And yet…the more I think about it, the more I feel like that's wrong. That Samantha, just doesn't, fit. Perhaps if I shorten it, Sam maybe. But I say again, I'm not sure. We Commons don't need names. We are just, Commons. There are some who are known by their Uncommon status, such as the Black Boomstick Uncommons. The boomsticks have no affect on them unless they are shot in the back. And the Squeaking Uncommon. The noises they make when they run….ohh…it is so, alluring. It just attracts us all, just like the round ones' vomit. Boomers their called. Very strange Special Infected; I always wonder just how they stay together with those lesions on their belly. Goodness I'm getting off again. What was I saying? Ah yes, I'm quite different the others.
I don't want to hurt the humans, these, Survivors as I've heard the higher ups call them. Higher ups being the larger, stronger Infected. The Jockeys, Smokers, Chargers, and such. You see, I'm a southern infected as a Hunter once called me. That's why I'm rather familiar with the Chargers, Jockeys, and Spitters. I followed, well, I followed the food up here. Now, my food is usually different then most Commons. Usually we just eat the humans or each other, maybe a furry thing or feathery thing, depending on what we can find. I have found that there are cold places where there is food. It is hard and sometimes burns to the touch, but if I leave it out for a long time I can eat it. True it isn't as wondrous as fresh meat, but I truly I do not wish to harm the humans. I remember being human, and that's what I strive for. To remember more and more. I do what I can, and yet, every day I find my memories growing darker and darker. I don't want to forget. I don't want to loose what humanity I have left.
Samantha. Who are you? Who were you to me? Why do I only remember you? Whoever you are, are you still alive? Are you Infected too? Do you remember me? Will I ever remember?