The Dead Rise

Hello.

If you are reading this, then that hopefully means you're still alive too.

Hopefully.

Today marks the first day of the end of the world as we knew it.

We had always thought it would end with a war, a famine, one person getting infected with some unusable disease that turned everyone he gave it too into zombies.

It was kind of the last one, but in a way, it wasn't.

My parents had always raised me, telling me that when a person died, they stayed dead.

I had always believed them, for how could the dead possibly come back to life?

My dead grandma proved it very wrong today, when she came stumbling in through our back door, and made a meal of my parents, who had been too shocked to fight back.

I was only lucky to have had my knife on hand when I walked into the kitchen at the commotion.

Otherwise, I would have been next on her meal too.

I had stabbed her through her brain, causing this foul black stuff to fly everywhere, instantly identifying her as the zombie she was.

I thought that had been the end of it, then, and had taken some time to grieve over my dead parents.

But then my dead parents rose, and they had looked at me with those dead eyes of theirs, moans coming from their mouths.

I wish I could say that I ran away, or that I succumbed to my grief.

But no.

I killed them, both of them, without a hint of remorse, for they were zombies, they were now the enemy.

Now, as I sit behind my locked and curtained window, I see the shuffling figures of many of those we thought had died.

The sheriff shot in the chest last month.

The librarian who died in the car crash.

Even old Uncle Ben, who had passed away from cancer I saw.

There are a couple more familiar faces of my neighbors with them.

Shuffling endlessly in their search for living flesh.

I see a few others like me, sitting at their windows, though they look down at the he crowd in fear.

I look down at it it with a blank face.

This was only the beginning.

They weren't going to go away.

So that left me with one option, as the two steak knives on my belt show.

I'm going to fight back against these bastards.

I don't care how long it will take, or if I end up dying for it.

But one way, or another, I will avenge my parents.

I will avenge my lost neighbors.

And I will avenge all those whose bodies are being used by a virus without their permission.

But for now, I think it would be a good time to rest.

Killing the dead is far more exhausting then we were led to believe.

Good night.

I hope to see you again tomorrow.

If there is one in this hell.