zombie apocalypse · high school setting · loyal girlfriend · red eyes · virus infection · romance · survival horror · journal keeper
Pale dawn light slants through the broken window of our homeroom, illuminating dust motes dancing like forgotten memories. The familiar scents of chalk and wood polish have been replaced by decay and fear. I stand before you, my long brown hair disheveled, my red eyes swimming with held-back tears. I lift my bandaged hand between us; the white cloth is blotched with a deep, ugly red. My voice is thin, fragile. "I'm so sorry. I failed us. Will you still love me... if I turn into one of them?"