The Oncoming Storm Part 2

 I edged the car closer and closer to the figure in the road. I could tell it was one of those things, I just knew it. I didn’t need to see it up close to know. I knew, deep down in my gut. I kept creeping closer and closer and as I passed the creature, I could see a nothing but crumpled cars and shards of glass. That’s when I knew I had to either risk crashing my car and drive through the field or decided to get out and walk. I chose the latter, but the only problem with that decision was finding another vehicle when I reached the other side.

So with that, I killed the ignition. And out of some sentimental value I took the keys with me. I knew there was no point but something in my heart told me to take them. It’s not as if someone or something was going to steal my car. I tightened the straps on my backpack, rest my gun on my shoulder and started what I knew was going to be a trek.

As I walked over the road, I tried to be quiet and unseen, but it was hard with every other step I took was accompanied by the crunch of glass under my well-worn boots. I reached the bank and crouched down ready to slide down. I felt like I had eyes on me, but I knew the things were occupied by the smoke and fireworks in the sky. Even though they were distracted I still knew I had to be silent and unseen.

As I entered the field, I realized it was darker than I first thought. I forced down the urge to run as fast I could. So I took those first few tentative steps on another unknown part of my journey. I wanted to use my torch but I didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention and I need a free hand incase I need to use my gun. I kept thinking I saw something in the far off distance but I knew it was my imagination, but my gut was trying to convince me otherwise.

I was almost halfway through the field that felt like a canyon of a thousand miles, when in the far off distance I could here gunshots, the guttural voice of the undead, and the distinct shouts of the thoroughly human. So out of happiness and sheer desperation I started running. Running the fasted I had in years. As I ran under the football goal and to the edge of the field. I came across something, which took my breath away…

To Be Continued.


If Only You Could See…

As the four of us sat round the dinner table on the Sunday nights I always dread, and it always seems so one sided. All the men/boys sat on one side and me, the only girl, sat on the other. The gap may only be a few centimetres but to me it seems like a void of a million miles. A canyon I feel I could never cross. And the food, left a lot to be desired, but after all you never put much effort in. Only if the boys were coming, that made things different.

Not only can I hear the television blaring in the background, I can also feel the vibration from a volume that is far too high for this supposedly relaxed, social family situation. It made me cringe, cringe at how uncomfortable and out of place I felt, in what is meant to be my kitchen, in my home. But somehow you manage to take that away from me.

As you praised son number 3, I could feel the words rising and I realize there are a million and one things I want to say to you. And I know most of them are not nice. So I bite my tongue, drift away and imagine what it would be like to tell you what I was really feeling, way down, in the depths of my soul.

I wish there was some way I could tell you, how insignificant you make me feel. How you don’t really seem to know at all. I do wish I could tell you how I feel like you have let me down and that somehow I have done the same to you.

I can recall all the times you have lied to me and kept me waiting for the things you promised to do. What would you say if you knew that I feel pushed out and used but someone who is meant to love me, protect me and be there when I need it the most.

But all you seem to do is judge me and make me feel worthless. I cannot count the amount of times I have sat in my room and cried. Cried out of hurt and frustration. Because I know I could never cry in front of you, because to you it’s a sign of weakness.

 Sometimes all I want is to know that you care and a hug wouldn’t be a bad thing. Although you can’t even do that, but for the boys that’s a different matter. They get all the love and affection that they want and what you think they need. So where does that leave me?

I wish you knew how hard these past few years have been for me. I always managed to be strong and that I always picked myself up and forced myself to carry on. When deep down in my heart and soul, I just wanted to give up. For the ground to swallow me whole. That as I get older, I feel like I should be able to tell you this things, but I know it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference.

So as you turn to ask me some random meaningless question, I tune back in and plaster on the well perfected, worn in smile that I have learnt to use when I want to hide the truth.

If only you could see the cracks that lurk beneath the surface. Like the cracks in the skin of the universe. They have a start, it’s just one that no one knows it’s beginnings or when and where it will end.

The Oncoming Storm: Part 1

I had lived on this street my entire life. I had seen it change through the years but some how stay the same. But there was something about tonight that was different. As I stood staring out of my bedroom window I could see abandoned cars and empty streets. In the far of distance I could see billows of smoke and hear the faint wail of sirens. I knew that this was going to be a night like no other. I was prepared but my fear was starting to out weigh my readiness.

I took one last look at the place where I grew up and all the memories it held. But it was time to let go and move on, because I knew I was no longer safe. And, as far as I knew, I was the last one alive in my town. When it all began I knew I had to make a choice. Stay and die, or leave and fight as best I could and see if I can survive. I chose the latter, seeing as there was nothing holding me here any more. This could be the end of everything I have ever known.

I turned away from the window and head out of the door, pausing halfway down the stairs to take one last look around my house. I pushed back the tears and headed towards the back door. Grabbing my backpack, car keys and shotgun. I left, without locking the door for the first time in years.

I walked across the garden and to the garage at the bottom. Trying to be as careful and as quiet as I could be. I couldn’t take any risks, not this early in my journey. That was one of my top rules: Don’t try to be a hero. No matter the circumstances. I had learned that the hard way. After opening the garage door. I climbed into the car, took a deep breath, put the key in the ignition and started the engine. As I started pull away I could feel the tears forcing their way to the surface again, but I could not allow myself to feel weakness or regret about leaving everything I know.

I was slowly driving along the street, I had been meticulous in planning my route and where I eventually wanted to end but I had a handful of back up plans, just in case thing went awry. I had my bag on the passenger seat and my shotgun resting on my lap, because god knows when I would need it. I turned on the motorway begin careful not to drive to fast. After driving for only a few miles, I drove in the fog and just as I emerged on the other side. I could see a lonely figure standing in the middle of the road…


…To be continued.