Six years. It has been six years, and all I can think about is him. It aches my bones. I have never been so afraid of being alone. But that is life now, that is what surrounds me, bringing me nightmares of death and suffering and loneliness.

I can't do it much longer.

Everyone I have cared about has died or left me.

I want someone to be close to, but in this world, that is too much to ask for in this world. I am also too afraid to care for one, to love one, but I want to so badly.

I snap back to reality to the sound of clickers surrounding me in this dark, damp room. They haunt my soul.

I wish I could die ; I want to die.

But not like this.

I get up, pull out my shiv, and hunker down behind a beaten-up desk. I listen, only hearing what matters; the infected whereabouts.

Shit. There is so many of them. Their clickity-click noises scatter across the entire floor.

I look over to the window behind me. It's nighttime, and the window is being pounded upon by showers of rain. I like rain. It washes away all the memories of...

Snap back, Ellie.

I gather up my wits, and move on to the first clicker. It is drooling blood, fungi forming armor on it's head. I ready my shiv, move behind it, quickly wrap my arm around it's filthy neck and jam my now broken shiv into the bottom, soft part of it's head.

It isn't fazed, and it starts to bite towards my arm, and my heart feels like it will beat out of my chest. I quickly push deeper, twisting the knife, brown-black goo and blood gushing down my hand. It's body falls limp, without a sound, and I ease it onto the ground.

I look around me, checking if any clickers heard that, and luckily they didn't.

I walk up the stairs around the corner slowly, making sure nothing hears me. I get to the top, and I open the door.

I see supplies everywhere.

Thanking God, if there is one, I snatch up everything I can fit in my backpack so I can get the hell out of here.

Then I walk out the door, back to the stairs.

After clearing out all the entire building of infected, which took me at least a half hour, I search for supplies.

I find four blades, three bottles of rubbing alcohol, one cloth, a note to a girl by some one of the name Kevin, an already-crafted Molotov, some food, and a health kit.

There are alot of supplies here. Alot of...already crafted supplies...someone had or has a stash here.

I hope to God I don't find out who.

As I walk out the door to climb on Felix, my palomino stallion, I swear I hear a voice. I turn around, and I hear Felix whinny, as if to warn me of something.

Then a bag goes over my head, large hands wrapping around me, feeling me, and something hard hits my head.

That is all I remember.