It felt like I hadn't moved for hours. Truly it felt I hadn't ever been so miserable, starving, and terrified in my entire life. All that noise had brought seemingly every other geek in this neighborhood to the door of the house I had been in. Stuck upstairs and unsure if I had an escape, the unsettling feeling of accepting death was starting to pool in my stomach once again.

Just from looking out of this upstairs window, I could tell it was still day time and even if that might seem like a good thing, it was just a sign to me that time was goin by extremely slowly. I could only hear groaning, banging, and the overall chorus of moans that walkers provided and my racing pulse in my ears. Nothing could come to mind that could calm me down at this point. Come on, Majesty.

I just needed to clear my head long enough to brainstorm an escape route. Jumping out the window on this leg was not an option, going out the front door was not an option, staying here was definitely not an option. My tussle earlier had left my mouth extremely dry and in the dry Georgia heat, being upstairs felt like I was in a sauna. Was getting my bag even an option? I wasn't sure.

Glenn was so resourceful, if he was here he would've had a plan for us by now. Just like when we found Rick. God, that felt like ages ago. Would I even be here in this position if we didn't find Rick? Maybe still back at the quarry. That horde had to have been from the guns, the car alarm…. I guess technically that was all Rick's fault. I liked Rick, though. There was no way I was trying to blame him as some form of coping. If Rick was where I was right now, he would've saved himself a thousand times over.

I just had to be like Glenn and Rick. I have to save myself. For a second, I focused on my breathing, timing steady inhale and exhales. With my eyes closed, I drowned out the ambiance provided by the dead and took one final breath to actually attempt to relax my body and my brain.

The boot had to go. There was no way I was hobbling around on that heavy ass thing. As soon as I started messing with the straps tightened around my leg, pain began to flare up onto my thigh, causing a nausea to reside in my stomach. I held still, definitely not allowing any of the fluids I was able to take in come up. I had to rush through this or I was going to be here forever. Rushed and irritated, I ripped through the velcro and shimmied the boot off, ignoring all the flaring discomfort.

Next step was tossing it out the window. That was like the only thing I was going to be able to leave out of. I dare not open the bedroom door that I was locked in. Immediately after standing up, I felt the instability of my ankle, the gross and sickening floppy feeling making me stumble. Relax.

I hopped as lightly as I could to the window that faced the back of the house, unlocking it and sliding it open. The screen was next. Light sounds of nature were let in as I stuck my head outside for the first time, looking down and feeling a sense of relief as I noticed there was a back porch with a small awning over it. Was it going to hurt? One hundred percent with no doubt about it- was it going to hurt less than trying to jump straight onto the ground? Absoloutely.

I tossed the boot out of the window, watching it roll off the porch and onto the dying grass in the fenced backyard. I gulped, knowing my weak body would have the same fate in just a few minutes. After the dry swallow, and a few more seconds of staring- trying to prepare for the shit I was going to have to do- I stuck the first half of my body out of the window, flattening my palms onto the roof tiles and shimmying through. At this point at least I didn't feel like I was in any real danger of being eaten alive so it was easier to move around with less panic.

Another inhale and I felt braced enough to pull my whole weight through the window trying hard to be careful with hitting my ankle on the window sill. Every movement made my body ache from the soreness accumulated over the past few days but I had no choice but to ignore and push through, now in a sitting position on the slope of the roof. I did a crab walk to the edge and began turning over so I wouldnt fall feet first. There wasn't a free thought in my head besides the fact that this was fucking crazy.

I let myself roll off, my stomach dropping the millisecond the surface left from under me. The drop was fast, and once I hit the rough terrain, a hot and blinding pain shrouded my entire being, zipping straight up from my bottom half and clouding my brain. I resisted the urge to scream, biting hard into my lip and refusing to open my eyes as I lied there, writhing in agony and letting my body cool itself down. It was even more hot lying here with my blood boiling and the sun beaming down onto me.

Finally, I opened my eyes, staring ahead at the dirt near my face, the dry weeds clouding my view of the entire backyard. I didn't want to move at all. Would I be crazy to just let myself sit and die here? Instantly I got annoyed at the thoughts in my head again. I could not give up. All this for nothing. I wonder how many other people have been in the same mindset as me so far since the start of the world ending. Some might be the same ones trying to eat my flesh at the front of the house right now.

Thankfully, the thud my body made when it collided with the ground didn't seem to send anything my way. But there was no way of knowing what was waiting for me on the other side of that tall brown wooden fence. I groaned when I realized there was more climbing in store for me. Fuck.

I used the motivation at being mad at myself to light a fire under my ass and turn myself over, pushing myself up into a sitting position. I looked at my ankle- a big swollen and red ball sitting there looking back at me. That thing was starting to annoy me more than actually hurting. With a sigh, I reached over to find the boot that I had tossed out before my own body, snatching it up and tucking it under my arm. Bracing myself once again, I used my arms for leverage and let my injured leg float as I began shimmying around until I could get myself standing. Once there, I started hobbling until I got to the edge of the fence, lifting wobbly on my tip toe to see what was on the other side. Another backyard. I felt like I was going to pass out before I would even get the chance to scale this thing,

A sigh escaped my lips as I repeated the process of throwing my boot over the edge first, and using my hands to get a good grip of the edges of the fence. Fighting through the feeling of being hot, weak, and dehydrated, I was fighting. I could only be proud of how resilient I felt. It's just a fence. I couldn't silence the groans of struggle as I kicked up the fence on one foot and scrambled to pull myself over, pausing at the top to catch my ragged breath. My good foot went over the side and I lowered gently onto the ground of the next yard, easing the rest of my weight over onto my weak legs and doing my best to not let the injured foot take too much of a bearing.

After my last incident, I didn't even feel safe attempting to go into the house I was in the backyard of. Standing there staring at the large, old timey classic farmhouse, there was a small sense of relief that had replaced the dread I was previously feeling. I had no idea how I was able to conquer such a daunting task, and the entire playback of what I had been through in such a short amount of time brought a slight stinging to my eyes. I was fighting the urge to break down into tears right then and there. Through all the memories that played back in my head, I focused on my boyfriend. His smile. His youthful, round and chubby face. The jet black hair that had a slight wave in it. I could feel how silky and soft it was if I focused on remembering the feeling of running my hands through it- my hand flexing a little at the thought. Mostly I thought about his hooded, deep and kind brown eyes, the way they lit up even more around me, his high cheekbones turning their shape into a squint everytime he smiled at me. God. I would give anything to be with him.

That's all I had to think about. Getting back to him. I had nothing without him. I was nothing without him. Nobody else would care about me if it wasn't for Glenn. At least the idea brought me back to reality. But, I was being honest with myself when I decided that I didn't want to go further anymore. Glancing around the backyard, finally, I observed a small play place for young children, a grill, a picnic table, and a homemade looking red dog house obviously for a large dog. I had to block out all the grim ideas of what had happened to the family and their dog. They could still be in that house for all I knew.

I hopped over closer to the house, just getting an idea to peek inside when a small green knob on the back of the house caught my eye. A fucking hose. Holy shit. My fingers gripped it desperately, turning the rusty knob until I heard some form of pipes moving. I was expecting a flurry of water to rush out and bless me but the more I turned and turned the knob I began to realize my luck had dried out- literally. Being in this town meant less wells and running water. I let the delusion continue growing in me as I kept turning and turning.

A few droplets fell out, immediately causing my body to hunch over and open wide underneath the spout, letting the cool water drop onto my dry tongue. It was definitely not enough to sasiate me by a long shot- barely better than nothing. There was no way I was trekking through this town again in this heat. I didn't even want to stand out in the open anymore. Slowly, I turned to the dog house, my best option at shade from the beaming southern sun. A stressful sigh escaped my lips, but I gave in to the idea.

At the foot of the dog house, I removed my shirt and placed it on the hot ground, ignoring the dank smell that was floating from under my underarms. So much for the shower I just had. Bare chested but with less weight on my body I almost considered stripping completely until I thought about creepy crawlies in my lady parts. No. I forced my adult body into the humid but not exactly baking hot space and sighed in relief at being shielded from direct sunlight.

It felt like as soon as I was able to feel a little comfort, the actual exhaustion set in immediately, my entire being feeling heaving and head drowsy. I wasn't even comfortable but I wanted to sleep so bad. I even considered climbing back out to put the boot back onto my injury since I knew I had no intention of going anywhere but I was entirely too lazy to even do that simple task. I closed my eyes, returning back to the idea of Glenn. The same images of his beautiful, tender, and loving face soothe me into a slumber.

Night sky greeted me when my eyes snapped open. I lied still, the art of slowing my breathing and listening to my surroundings before I made a move had long become a natural instinct. There were a few soft moans in the air, slightly drawn out by the sound of cicadas and southern ambiance. When I realized where I was, remembering the dog house and me being bare chested on the hard ground- I chouldn't help but to chuckle to myself. At least I was finding some light in my situation.

I lied there in my thoughts, gently humming my own variation of 'on the road again'. Anything to ignore the aches and grumbles of my empty stomach. Being bored, lonely, hungry, in pain- all of that was enough to drive someone crazy. It ws getting to me slowly.

When this entire thing had begun, Glenn and I stayed locked up in our shitty apartment in Atlanta. We had heard about the shit on the news- he was frantically trying to find a way to get back to Michigan so we could get any word from his sisters and parents. My family lived in Georgia, my brother was going to finish second year of University around that time. I would talk to my mom and dad on the phone, sharing the stories we were hearing on the news of cannibal attacks, evacuations, quarantines- all that pandemic shit that goes on. We played video games and waited and waited and waited… T-Dog was our neighbor. The day Atlanta seemed to flip on its head, he was banging on our door, asking for our help to get some of the seniors to the evac zones. I mean if we didn't help him, we would've had those fire bombs dropped right on us in the middle of the city like that. On that highway we met everyone.

Amy saw me first, commenting on how pretty I was. We talked for a while before her sister came and pulled her away. Andrea was talking to Dale. I thought they knew each other before by how protective he seemed and how he watched over the two sisters. From them two we met Shane, Lori, Carl. They were with Carol, Sophia, Ed. The others we picked up along the way just seemed to bond together like glue. Even when Daryl and Merle showed up, outsiders who pulled their weight. Provided good conversation, too. Daryl, anyway.

All that just for me to end up here and alone. In a fucking dog house lying on my back. And starving. Well, reminiscing was over. With a sigh, I crawled out from my makeshift shelter and peeked my head out, making sure the coast was clear. Nothing. First thing I stumbled to was my boot, strapping my leg back up and sighing in relief at the feeling of my bone being fixed. Then I put my shirt back on, yawning and limping casually to the back door of the house. I gave a gentle tug. It was unlocked. That honestly caused me more stress than relief. I guess I didn't learn my lesson going into these unlocked houses.

Opening the door fully, the house was of course pitch black and dead silent. The last thing I needed was any kind of jumpscares; lessons learned from my last situation. I banged on the walls of the house, making it out that I was in some kind of kitchen from squinting the fuck out of my eyes. I waited a little then tiptoed inside as best as I could in my situation. I left the door open for some moonlight to illuminate the room fully and tried to stay alert, continuing the light banging on the walls to get any lurkers' attention. On the first floor I felt safe enough, and the fact that the air wasn't as stiff and smelly as the usual places that were full of walkers, I let my body untighten- taking in a deep breath of musty air and going back to the kitchen. I opened the fridge up, a rancid smell of the rotting food filled my nose, nats and maggots on the inside making me gag. I slammed it shut, stumbling to the cabinets next.

I grabbed the first thing I saw- squinting at the torn up paper. A can of pumpkin pie filling. Something I would've never touched if I wasn't in the end times. But guess where I was? I took the can, banging and banging on the counter but it didn't even budge. I opened all the counter drawers, running my finger through the untesnils until I gripped a can opener. That would've saved me some time and energy. I made quick work of the top, grabbing a spoon and holding my breath as I all but devoured the sweet puree.

I went back into the cabinet, fingering through the cans again. Beans. Beans and pumpkin. One hell of a dinner. I popped the top again, pouring the beans into my mouth and slurping up the disgusting bean juice that came along with it. There were other cans for sure, but I didn't want to spoil all of it in one night. I guess I could make it good for now. Back in the drawer I found a knife, gripping it tight and walking through the house again, keeping my hand up on the wall as I navigated my way to the staircase. I creeped up top, as I began getting up there, that stench of dead was beginning to become potent. I kept my back on the wall, sliding across it as my heart rate picked up- now audible in my ears.

I followed my nose, finding a door slightly cracked open where I could easily tell that smell was coming from. I dare not even breathe too heavily as I approached it. My throat had become dry again as I gulped, deciding to just bang on the door one good time. There was no moan or snarl or any sign of life from the other side.

Cautiously, I turned the knob, holding my breath as I opened the door and squinted into the darkness. More flies came near my face as I barely made out the dead body sitting in what looked like an armchair. I took baby steps as I got near, observing the silhouette of the man. He was dead, what looked like a bullet hole right in the middle of his forehead. Ignoring the insects, I got low to the ground and felt around for the gun that was used. My fingers touched the cold metal of a pistol and I shakily picked it up- my mind reeling at the situation at hand. My fingers couldn't stop trembling.

A few images of me using the same gun, giving myself the same fate. I blinked, shaking my head a few times and just trying to focos on securing the gun. The other ways out I just couldn't fathom. But this? This was so easy. I shuffled away, reminding myself for what felt like the hundredth time why I was here- why I was fighting. These types of feelings and ideas were some I hadn't struggled with since I was a teenager. I had drugs and outlets back then. God, I was tired of going through this. No matter what I could think of or find- that idea of giving up was always fresh in my mind.

I finally got away from the body, observing the pistol in my hand. I fumbled around with the metal until I found the safety click, turning it on and putting it into the boot as a makeshift holster. From there I strained my eyes to see a little bit more of the interior of the room, the reflection of a glass bottle glimmering and lighting up my vision. I reached for it from off the ground, not even giving a fuck what the bottle said. I left the room, shutting the door behind me, giving a mental thank you to the man for his contributions. Across the hall was another room, I opened the door and glanced around, my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. There was nothing but furniture in there.

Locking the door behind me, I shuffled over to the bed and hoisted myself onto it, getting on my knees and undoing the closed curtains to let a bit of moonlight inside. I stretched a bit in bed, enjoying the comfort I hadn't felt in a while. The bottle was calling my name, and I used the bit of light to read the label. Good ole' whisky. It was never my thing but it could be now. I unscrewed the top, leaned my head back, and poured the warm alcohol into my mouth, cringing immediately at the burning in my throat. My body collapsed back onto the soft pillows as I swore I felt that liquor travel all the way down my throat, and pool warmly into my belly. Once I got a feel of the first taste of liquor entering my system, it felt uncontrollable- and I began taking non stop swigs- this was all I could hope for to drown out the torment.