Andy
He looked down at the mass of undead that had collected themselves outside of his safe haven. The sun had gone down and with it the men and women from the Crossroads Mall had left Andy to himself atop the Gun Shop, which he owned. Looking down at the monsters that would like nothing more than to rip his flesh off with their teeth and eat him he began to think about all that he'd lost.
He hadn't mentioned anything to the other survivors about his family that he'd lost. He wouldn't even know how to begin to tell them about his story, his tragedy. He stood up out of his lawn chair and rubbed a few aches out of his back before heading to the door that lead downstairs.
Once he was down the long stretch of steps he found himself in the main shopping area and his living area for the time being. Sleeping behind the counter seemed like the safest of his choices just incase something did get through his reinforced doors.
Setting on the countertop was a picture frame that showed a beautiful woman in her forties and two children, all dress in camouflage. His reaction to the picture was mixed as a heartwarming smile spread across his face and a tear slid down his cheeks.
He reached out with his starved, skeletal hands and picked up the cold frame. Cocking his head to the side so the tears would fall off his face he studied the curves of the faces that looked back at him from the picture. An empty hole was left in his chest every time he could bring himself to look at the photo of his family.
"How was I supposed to know?" He said to the picture. He desperately wished that they could talk back. He'd give anything to see them all again, to tell them that he loved them. Realizing that he'd never get that chance again just brought more tears to his eyes and erased the smile.
"You know that I wouldn't have left if I'd known what was going to happen. I never would have left", he said. While whipping a few tears off of the glass that kept the picture from the rest of the world, he broke down and curled over on himself.
"I wish that I could have quit my drinking. I really do wish that we'd never gotten in that fight." He looked back at his wife. "I thought it would be best if I left the house for the night, if I went to the gun shop to sleep it off." He raised his weak and shaking hand up to his face to wipe a tear off of his face. "I didn't want to hurt you or the kids. Please God tell me that you knew I loved you!" He shouted.
His body started to rock back and forth as he tried to calm himself down. "I left you all alone in that house. Anything could have happened to you. I came home drunk like every other night that week but this night was different. I yelled at you that night. I yelled at you and the kids." His sobbing got worse as he spoke. Confessing his soul to the picture frame seemed to be a mixed blessing of sorts. "You kicked me out of the house for the night and told me to sleep it off. You packed my things and told me to go sleep in the Gun Shop. I should have stayed with you. I didn't know!"
His focus quickly shifted from the picture frame to a Beretta 9mm that beckoned him from the glass display case. It did more than just tempt him; it offered him a relief. It promised him things that he wanted so badly he could kill for them. He could kill himself to get them. A chance to apologize, a chance to tell them that he loved them, and a chance to put himself out of his misery.
The Beretta looked like a tall glass of ice water in the middle of a desert. He reached deep into his pocket and fetched a set of keys out, one of which that opened the glass display case. He placed the key into the proper slot and turned enough to open it. Reaching into the case and putting his hand around the handle felt so right and so good he wanted to cry with pleasure. Knowing that it would all be over soon made a new kind of tear form in his eyes.
He placed the gun to his temple and popped of the safety with his pinky, his index finger wrapping around the trigger. Closing his eyes he could see his wife and two boys smiling at him with an invitation.
"You can't do this. You know you can't do this", he said to himself. Then, just as quickly as they appeared, his wife and kids vanished.
"No, I'm not supposed to die today. I will surely see you soon", he said to the photo as he placed it back on the counter followed by the gun into the case.
He looked down at the mass of undead that had collected themselves outside of his safe haven. The sun had gone down and with it the men and women from the Crossroads Mall had left Andy to himself atop the Gun Shop, which he owned. Looking down at the monsters that would like nothing more than to rip his flesh off with their teeth and eat him he began to think about all that he'd lost.
He hadn't mentioned anything to the other survivors about his family that he'd lost. He wouldn't even know how to begin to tell them about his story, his tragedy. He stood up out of his lawn chair and rubbed a few aches out of his back before heading to the door that lead downstairs.
Once he was down the long stretch of steps he found himself in the main shopping area and his living area for the time being. Sleeping behind the counter seemed like the safest of his choices just incase something did get through his reinforced doors.
Setting on the countertop was a picture frame that showed a beautiful woman in her forties and two children, all dress in camouflage. His reaction to the picture was mixed as a heartwarming smile spread across his face and a tear slid down his cheeks.
He reached out with his starved, skeletal hands and picked up the cold frame. Cocking his head to the side so the tears would fall off his face he studied the curves of the faces that looked back at him from the picture. An empty hole was left in his chest every time he could bring himself to look at the photo of his family.
"How was I supposed to know?" He said to the picture. He desperately wished that they could talk back. He'd give anything to see them all again, to tell them that he loved them. Realizing that he'd never get that chance again just brought more tears to his eyes and erased the smile.
"You know that I wouldn't have left if I'd known what was going to happen. I never would have left", he said. While whipping a few tears off of the glass that kept the picture from the rest of the world, he broke down and curled over on himself.
"I wish that I could have quit my drinking. I really do wish that we'd never gotten in that fight." He looked back at his wife. "I thought it would be best if I left the house for the night, if I went to the gun shop to sleep it off." He raised his weak and shaking hand up to his face to wipe a tear off of his face. "I didn't want to hurt you or the kids. Please God tell me that you knew I loved you!" He shouted.
His body started to rock back and forth as he tried to calm himself down. "I left you all alone in that house. Anything could have happened to you. I came home drunk like every other night that week but this night was different. I yelled at you that night. I yelled at you and the kids." His sobbing got worse as he spoke. Confessing his soul to the picture frame seemed to be a mixed blessing of sorts. "You kicked me out of the house for the night and told me to sleep it off. You packed my things and told me to go sleep in the Gun Shop. I should have stayed with you. I didn't know!"
His focus quickly shifted from the picture frame to a Beretta 9mm that beckoned him from the glass display case. It did more than just tempt him; it offered him a relief. It promised him things that he wanted so badly he could kill for them. He could kill himself to get them. A chance to apologize, a chance to tell them that he loved them, and a chance to put himself out of his misery.
The Beretta looked like a tall glass of ice water in the middle of a desert. He reached deep into his pocket and fetched a set of keys out, one of which that opened the glass display case. He placed the key into the proper slot and turned enough to open it. Reaching into the case and putting his hand around the handle felt so right and so good he wanted to cry with pleasure. Knowing that it would all be over soon made a new kind of tear form in his eyes.
He placed the gun to his temple and popped of the safety with his pinky, his index finger wrapping around the trigger. Closing his eyes he could see his wife and two boys smiling at him with an invitation.
"You can't do this. You know you can't do this", he said to himself. Then, just as quickly as they appeared, his wife and kids vanished.
"No, I'm not supposed to die today. I will surely see you soon", he said to the photo as he placed it back on the counter followed by the gun into the case.