I really wanted to do this story for a while now, and now i have decided to do something about it! I hope you guys like it and give me some opinion about what you think about this.

Enjoy :)

I was 13 years old when doctors discovered a cure for cancer. They had been working on this for some time, my father helping them. Some didn't believe it. I didn't believe it too. It was impossible at first, but they did it. A cure meant that my mother would be okay, that the cure would save her. The doctors described it as altering how cancer works; changing it to help you instead of kill you. It would make you healthy again, it wouldn't kill you. I never fully understood what that meant. Everyone just told me that it would save mom.

Dr Robert Neville was the one who found the discovery, and has changed the world, as we know it. My father were one of the few people to watch the spectacular event, watching someone who was going to die of cancer, a young boy immediately look healthy and well again. They had trailed 10,000 people for the cure, and all survived it. It was a peaceful few months, knowing soon that mom would be alive and well. New York seemed to be a safe haven for a while, people coming from all around the world waiting for the cure to be used for loved ones. But then reports that it changed the human completely broke out.

It made humans into mutants, changing the human completely. We watched the news that day, looking at the boy my father saved, change overnight into a freaky mutant. They were similar to vampires in a way. Came out in the dark, drank blood, killed those who were well. Before the outbreak come out, the wealthy and those who were needed left the city, leaving those who didn't even know that this was happening alone to die.

My father was asked to leave, to leave the city and be safe from the outbreak but he stayed. He wanted to help his friend, Dr Robert to find a cure for the cure they created. We stayed with him. We were a family who never left each other no matter what.

Many made it out of New York, others like my family didn't. We were left to die in a city that wasn't going to be liveable sooner or later. My family was left to fight for ourselves, starved and grieving for our mother, who died a few weeks later due to the lack of medical support.

The army didn't help those who stayed. They left New York like everyone else did. They left us to die.

We were left to survive on our own. With nothing but what the city left behind. Three years later we are still fighting, still trying to fight those mutants who threaten to kill us.

Those who are left have fought for 3 years, and will keep fighting to stay alive in this ruined world. My brother and my father are my only family left, and they will keep fighting with me.

We will keep fighting, keep fighting for a cause and a cure.

My name is Tris Prior, and I will be remembered.