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Creative Writing: The End Of Humanity

1513 words - 7 pages

Sunday, December 8th, was the day it all started. Some might call it a catastrophe, some call it The End of Humanity, but I, Bethany, call it an experience; even if it is evidently more extreme. Caused by a scientist’s mistake, humankind was at serious risk of extinction. What is this life-changing event? It is something so hysterically implausible that I thought I was merely living in a dream. It is the Zombie Apocalypse of 2014, and here is my story:
Today was the third day the zombies have been here, yet I still cannot acknowledge their existence, it seems so unreal. ¼ of the world has already died, or technically, infected and are transitioned into horrible, foul-looking creatures. ...view middle of the document...

I could hear a screaming sound, realizing seconds after it was my own. My mom was staring at them, shaking. They were smiling! THOSE GROSS CREATURES WERE SMILING! It was a sickening sight. My mom started walking towards them. I glared at her, not saying anything, not sure about what she’s going to do. She then screamed –
I was bolt of lightning; running was always easy for me (metaphor). I then found a dumpster, and, hesitantly, I jumped in it with my breath held.
“What the –, who are you! GET OUT!” said a stranger who scared the life out of me (hyperbole).
I screamed and started to (unsuccessfully) run away from this possible zombie, while in the dumpster. After two or three seconds, the dumpster eventually fell. I took a deep breath, waiting for death. Nothing was happening. What? I almost feel disappointed I’m not dead yet. Maybe he is a humane zombie? Do zombies even talk? I uncertainly turn around, my head down, and opened my eyes carefully, HUMAN FEET! I don’t think I was ever this happy to see feet in my life! I gave a small laugh and hugged this person whom I’ve only seen his feet.
“Excuse me, what are you doing?”
I looked up at this person’s face. He was a male, one or two years older than me, dark hair, brown eyes, extremely handsome, well-built, quite tall, I wouldn’t mind sticking around with him. He pushed me away. I stared at him, embarrassed.
“I’m going to be straightforward. First, don’t ever do that again. My name is Kolton. Now, we are the only two survivors in Atlanta as far as I know. We can’t stay alive by ourselves so we’ll be working together. I have snacks and water in my bag. I know a good sleeping spot. The zombies looked like they have moved on from this land, but we can’t be sure. We will take shifts at night. I sleep two hours, you sleep two hours. I personally would’ve preferred someone, well, more mature than you to depend on, but I guess you’ll do. Oh, and don’t talk too much, it bothers me. I know you teenagers love to talk. This isn’t a slumber party or sleepover. Time is precious. Most of us don't have enough of it and wish we had more (idiom).”
“Uhhhhh….OK. My name’s Beth, uh, I mean Bethany.”
What a horrid man. He barely knows me and has already accused me of immaturity, slumber parties, a talker, and being a time consumer. And to think that I thought he was a fine guy! How foolish, and now I’m stuck with him. Just my luck.
The wind was howling, I was freezing, and drowning in my tears of grief due to my parents’ death (personification and hyperbole). Before I knew it, it was morning and time to wake up. I really don’t get why we even have to wake up, it’s not like we have school. I guess today is the day I’ll prove I’m not a girly little kid.
“Today we hunt. We can’t live on crackers and water forever.” He said.
“Yeah, sure. Hunting, very easy.”
He scoffed. Ugggh, it’s almost like he can sense my awfulness at hunting. It’s...

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