I'm Not Okay

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sometimes, a simple question can mean more than we know.

Submitted: February 04, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 04, 2014



I'm Not Okay

By: ZomBElement115

With a baseball bat in my hands, I swung it at the head of a nearby zombie, breaking it open and sending it onto the ground, dead. It's black chunky brain spilled out onto the pavement. I waved my right hand over my should to signal my group to follow behind me. I didn't hear their footsteps so I turned around to see they were gone, they left me to die.

I looked around frantically but there was no life to be seen, only empty vessels of what used to be humans wobbling around the street. I could smell rotting flesh permeate the air with the constant groans of the walking dead echoing throughout the empty alleys of this city. The sound of dragging feet grew behind me so I quickly turned back to see several corpses walking in my direction. I wanted to reach for my sidearm that was holstered on the right side of my hip but I didn't want to waste the ammo or attract too much attention. I looked around for a possible escape and soon came across and door leading into one of the building next to me. I entered it and closed it behind me, barricading it with a desk that was conveniently placed next to it. I surveyed the surrounding room for any opening those monsters could take advantage of, but, to my surprise, all the windows that lined the walls were all ready covered with wooden planks.

Thinking for a moment as to who could have been here before me, my eyes soon shot to a body that sat in the corner of the room. I pulled out my flashlight and shined it over to the body, showing itself to have belonged to a young boy, light brown hair and skin that was battered and bruised. I ran over to him and examined it for any sign of life but there was no pulse. I looked over the body to learn of how he died but there was nothing, no cuts, bites or bullet wounds. I left the body in the corner and began to search for any item that could be useful but all that could be seen was a gray tiled floor and white ceiling with a few empty cans laying around. Bringing my attention back to the door I had entered, I could hear the sounds of the undead bashing and raving like ravenous beasts, screeching and howling for their next meal.

I tried to ignore them and sat against the wall opposite of the door just in case they were to get it open. I pulled out my pistol and removed the clip to see how many rounds I had left. In despair, I looked as I only had two bullets left. I was depressed, I had no way out so I walked over to the door and began to push the desk out of the way, accepting my fate till the sounds of little feet came from behind me. I spun around in a second but it was too late as the zombie version of the child in the corner lunged at me and sunk his tiny teeth into my shoulder. I let out a loud yell as I tossed the kid away, he stumbled to the ground but quickly jumped back to his feet and started to sprint at me. In fear, I whipped out my pistol and let off a round directly in the child's head.

The loud fire of the gunshot echoed through the room and the boy's head jerked back, his body falling backwards onto the ground. Bits of his brain were plastered to the wall behind him and even seeped out of the fresh hole, surrounding his head in a puddle of dark red. I placed my right hand onto my left shoulder where the child had bitten me, squeezing it in agony, stumbling backwards into the wall and sliding down to the floor. Knowing my time is running out, I am recording my final moments for those who care of what had happened to this poor fool of a man. I sit here now with my gun to my head and the last bullet in the chamber, thinking about the one question people often asked, am I okay. Huh, now I can actually say I'm not, I'm not okay.

© Copyright 2019 ZomBElement115. All rights reserved.

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