Disclaimer: I do not own Zombieland or any of it's characters.
Hello, I'm back to try to write a bit more. I will be trying to update my other story, To Ohio With Love, as soon as possible. For now, here is a prologue for a new story! It started out as a creative writing piece for an assignment where I had to incorporate 20 vocabulary words that we had learned.
This chapter is being told from Colombus' point of view. I'm not completely sure of his age, so I took a guess. Please let me know what you think!
Someone Like Me: A Survivor's Tale
It was now the year 2012 and, well, let's just say that things didn't quite turn out the way I ever thought they would. I had only been nineteen when my world was turned upside down by a maelstrom of problems. Now, aged twenty-two, I sat on an old, dilapidated dock that looked over what was once a beautiful, undulating ocean. The long ago beautiful aqua-colored water had turned into a still brackish, murky liquid that didn't even resemble water. It was times like this that made me long for the once halcyon days of my childhood. Oh, how far away they seemed. I figured that by now it was probably late August, but it didn't feel like it. There weren't any crickets chirping amidst the summer's calmness, any fireflies blinking throughout the peaceful darkness, or any children playing late into the night. No, these were all things of the past . . . nights were now taciturn and still. Nothing would ever be the same again; I could never go back to the world of my youth. Sure, things weren't always ideal back then, but compared to this the time was practically utopian. I mean, yeah, people had been distraught with this issue or that issue, but at least there were other people. As each day passed by it felt more and more like I might be the only one left.
I was only nineteen when it all happened. I was your typical college student at the time, sleeping in until noon and not being able to form a coherent thought until any time after that. I was simply living life and enjoying it . . . if only I had realized that the world I knew then was about to end. I truly don't believe that anyone ever figured out exactly how or why things came to be the way they are now, but the government was given credence to their claim that it was due to biological warfare. In order to make a long story short let's just say that basically the world no longer belongs to the living. That's right . . . the dead actually DID rise. Zombies weren't just something made up by Hollywood in order to sell movies. They did exist. Surviving wasn't as easy as the movies made it out to be . . . everything was so much more real.
These "zombies" were nefarious beings that truly did cause an overt threat to the human race. It wasn't as simple as "aim, shoot, fire". No, you had to plan everything out or else one little devious "zombie" would lead to an overwhelming, incendiary mob of the undead. They were stronger than I ever expected and had such an insatiable hunger. Once I had witnessed two of them take down an entire herd of horses in a matter of mere minutes. Yeah, they preyed on more than just humans, though that wasn't exactly surprising, in my opinion. I mean living flesh was living flesh, right? They were acquisitive beings that seemed to only be driven by some sort of primordial urge or instinct.
Back in the days, when all of this was beginning it seemed like everyone had a plan or an idea on how they would be a hero and save the day. The rich had their money and their propriety, which proved to mean absolutely nothing in the end, while others had their tactics and plans. Some people had even recommended exhuming the already dead, putting a bullet in their head, and then burying them once again. Sounds kind of morbid, eh? Then there were the people who thought if you could emulate the undead that they wouldn't realize you were still a tasty human waiting to be consumed. This theory quickly failed when people realized that your typical living being doesn't smell like a dead, decaying corpse. Though it is true that the creatures lacked the celerity that most living humans possess; however, they didn't seem to be affected by pain like the living.
Every day I thanked my lucky stars that I had made it out alive and didn't perish in the horrible camps like so many others had. To have my life come to such a tragic end would be horrible, though I guess I wouldn't even realize it.
Once things started to get really out of control the government began to quarantine people and "exterminate" the sick. Basically, if you even showed any flu like symptoms or had a common cold you had reached the end of your time. Families were taken from their houses during the night and herded into one central area with the rest of their neighbors. These camps typically were on the outskirts of larger cities. When they began the evacuations I had been living in my dorm with one roommate, who had left the week before to visit sick family. I'd like to think that they were still out there somewhere like me, but for some reason I have a feeling that the met their fate elsewhere.
Something just didn't seem right about these camps, so I managed to make my escape on the way out of town. I had hid in a ditch, amongst bodies, until all military personnel and vehicles passed. Ever since then I've been my own for the most part. Whenever areas would be evacuated the military would always be involved. They'd have guards on all sides of the quarantine, just like we were prisoners. At least I wasn't condemned to the same fate as all those others.
Don't get me wrong, things have been hard. It wasn't like it was easy to be a one-man-team, but hey, sometimes you don't really get a choice. I've definitely made my fair share of mistakes too, but I've still managed to get along pretty well. I keep myself fed, clothed, and sheltered for the most part. It's not too hard to find some things when you're practically the only person who is even left anymore, though . . . it does get kind of lonely at times. But, you've got to deal with the hand you've been given.
It's been three long years since I last slept in the comfort of my own bed. Three years since I've had a normal day. All I long for now is to find someone who is like me, still alive. I've been traveling the country, far and wide, searching cities as I go for any survivors. Unfortunately, I haven't had any luck yet. There have been signs of others; writing on the walls, notes, and even lights left on, but never an actual person still there. Tomorrow I will set out on my journey again. Where will it take me? I'm not quite sure, maybe I'll travel farther south so that when winter hits at least I'll be in a warmer area. I'm not quite sure what the future holds for me or if there even is a future at this point. All I really know is that I won't give up. I've come way too far to back down now. Even if it takes me the rest of my natural life I will find someone else like me. I will find my own happiness, but until then it'll be just me, myself, and I.
Thank you for reading! R&R, please! Reviews are like lucky stars at times!
-xx-JosephineJaded-xx-