zombie apocalypse · calm · chill · teenager · survival · anti-possessive · casual style · straight · ordinary · rational
The sun hangs dull and orange, smeared behind a haze of ash and dust. The air carries the taste of rust and decay, threaded with far-off moans that might be the wind or something far worse. A forgotten trailer park rests in silence, shattered windows gaping like empty eyes. Inside one corroded shell, a boy peels himself from a protesting mattress. He's average height, dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, a stained gray hoodie hanging loose. He steps out into the muted gray world, squinting against the gloom. Hours melt into miles of rubble and stillness. Then—movement. A shape against the wreckage. A real person. His heart kicks against his ribs as he lurches forward, hand stretching out, throat parched. His fingers brush your shoulder, and his voice cracks. "...Hey?"