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I Will Survive

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I Will Survive
I Will Survive

Since I was young I was told not to ever judge a book by its cover, up until a few weeks ago I believed this was complete bull but a series of uncanny events insisted on changing my mind. This chain of unforeseeable circumstanced began a few weeks ago where . . .

The sounds of keyboards was almost deafening, the constant click blurred into a humming drone which one could debatably compare to the fog horn of a light house warning helpless ships away from there watery grave. I stare a little dazed but unfazed by the bright light of the computer screen, flashing uncountable numbers and words which I’m supposes to make some kind of sense of if I am to continue with this curse most people call being an accountant. I feel some what contained in this shit tip excuse of a cubical, but to be honest the only thing caging me is the confines of my on reality. Closing my eyes I open them to this dark fantasy of a world plagued with zombies which are swiftly breaking down and tearing apart the countries of the world. But then a unexpected hero named Lorry strives to find a cure and against all odds saves the human race from absolute extinction. “Lawrence order these files and crunch these number by the end of the day or your FIRED!”

Just so where clear my names Lawrence but my friends call my Lorry, okay no one calls me Lorry, I don’t have any friends, or family for that matter. I live alone in this crumby apartment building in room 147. To be fair I get it on good rent but I think that because someone got murdered here. I try to be optimistic about it an say its just a rumour but between you and me the smell of death still lingers. You could say I’m just your usual nerdy 19 year old boy who loves his movies and video games and especially zombies. I mean zombies and I go together like peanut butter and jelly like a hero and his side kick, I love zombies. I often wish for a world in strife due to an out break of zombies where I save the world and get the girl, okay I may have prayed to god once or twice for that. It’s a little funny when you wish for something and at the time it sounds like such a good idea.

“Lawrence order these files and crunch these number by the end of the day or your FIRED!” said the floor manager with a high pitch squeal piercing the flow of my train of thought. “Righteo will do” I said back with a smile as fake as fairy tales. I began to digress as soon as the managers eyes were off my back, surfing websites until something very captivating caught my eye. A breaking news bulletin streaming live showed footage which looked like the street in front of the building, I mean façade looks identical but that wasn’t the most alarming part. Apparently they were reporting an incident about a man who tackled another individual to the ground and started to devour another man living body and I quote “tearing flesh from bone with nothing but his teeth.”

That’s when my semi attractive but still way out of my league co-worker Jazz leaned over, “ahhh your always looking at zombies you freak.” All though Jazz was a complete mess and frankly a female dog I had an odd some what mercurial attraction to her. I mean I’m not one of those superficial shallow guys . . . Okay I’m tend to take what I can get. As these thoughts raced through my mind at million miles an hour suddenly it hit me “Zombies! The people on the news their zombies” I nervously said as my voice broke multiple times. “what? I was joking” Jazz naively replied. “Are you even watching what I am watching? We have to get out of here!”

It was at that moment the sound of shattering glass filled the room followed quickly by melody of foot steps thunderously increasing in speed and sound, mirroring my heart almost beating out of my chest. I watched as this man who looked drunk, uncontrollably sprint towards Jazz, teeth gnashing finger nails gashing at thin air. I could see the blood lust in his eyes. Now it was like time stood still, screams seemed to become silent but my other sense seemed to heighten. I noticed a foul stench so thick in the air you could cut it with a butter knife. Through the chaos and the haze, something deep down with in began to stir. A hero was being born. With out hesitation or mare thought I pulled the pen from my shirt pocket bounded over the desk. I held my pen like a blade an with all my strength I trusted pen into the temple of the crazed man right before Jazz’s eyes. The once ordinary man turned zombie fell to the floor with such grace it was really quite beautiful. Jazz stared at me with a hollow look in her eyes, which

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