The alarm screamed. In the small room, Brett slapped his alarm and missed. He hit at it again and actually stopped the irritating beeping from the alarm clock. “I fucking hate this thing,” he mumbled. Brett rolled out of bed, and fell right on his face. “There we go, now I can get to school,” he said, after he got dressed. He got all of his stuff ready, and while he was putting on his scrappy shoes, he thought, Shit. I have the fucking seminar today. The teacher is back, too. Mr. Smith is a fucking cunt. He opened up his window, and saw all of the zombies on the ground. He had forgotten that they had existed, and thought about how lucky he was to know parkour so that he didn’t run the risk of being attacked. All he had to do was jump across buildings. Brett climbed up to the roof of his apartment building, carefully choosing what brick or pipe to grab while he was scaling the building. As he sat on top, Brett watched the colorful sunrise; the sky was an oil painting with streaks of pink and orange and purple and red, and he saw the ocean from a bit away. He couldn’t understand why in such a beautiful city there were so many dead people, and so many zombies everywhere. Brett proceeded to step back, start running, stepped on the edge of the building and leaped, being prepared to grab the side of the wall that was over 20 feet away from him. Once he got to the other building, he started striding across the walls, but on one he hit his ankle, rolled it, and fell. His head was racing, until he hit it on the hard concrete and all went black.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked around. Brett woke up in a cold, dark cell, and realized he was chained to the wall. He had three IVs in his arms. He started tugging at the chains, but they wouldn’t budge. Brett was panicking. Even his training couldn’t get him out. Brett started screaming for help, his voice echoing off the walls. Zombies walked in slowly, circling him. Brett tried running, but couldn’t. He was still stuck to the wall. Brett knew he was gonna end up like his parents. The only difference was they deserved this, and he didn’t. I haven’t done anything wrong, he thought, why must fate be like this? He knew he was gonna get eaten. Brett could see the sparkle in the zombies’ eyes as they looked at him and kept groaning. They were slowly closing in on him, and he couldn’t escape. “FUCKING PIECES OF SHIT!” he yelled, but they wouldn’t stop limping towards him. Brett knew that his doom was to come.