Early Sunsets Over Monroeville

I would have never thought something like this could happen. Something this crazy only happened in the movies. But it did happen, and it took him too.

It started off a normal day. I suppose it happens like that in the movies too. He and I walked to the nearest mall, holding hands, at sunset.

They're holding hands, and life was perfect. Just like up on the screen.

I loved and absolutely enjoyed every waking second with him. We could be stuck on an elevator with a dozen other people, or watching children throw change from the bottom of their mother's purses into a fountain.

Pennies and colder fountains. Elevators and half priced sales.

But their was a time I didn't enjoy. When they came.

They were disgusting. Walking, rotting corpses. They were everywhere I turned. I wanted to believe they weren't real but I knew they were.

Women, men, and children were shrieking, running for the exits or places to hide. He began running, pulling me with him. We ran out of the mall, the undead slowly limping after us.

“We're close to safety!” He gasped. His house was in sight. The second we ran up his drive way, we heard an ear piercing scream from inside. Our eyes widened to the size of saucers. We dashed through the front door. I followed him, but he stopped me. He told me he wanted me safe. I begged for him not to leave, but he did.

And these words changing nothing, as your body remains.

I waited there, waiting for his footsteps to come bounding down the stairs. But all I heard was his cry for help. I looked around frantic for something to use as a weapon. A grabbed a cleaver knife from the counter and made a mad dash to him. I found him in his parents room, cornered by the undead.

Quickly, I ran to them. I rose the knife above my head, and brought it back down on the head of the unsuspecting zombie's skull. A fountain of blood gushed out, coating the ceiling crimson. I swung at the rest of them, until they were completely dead. I looked down at my beloved and gasped. He was leaning against the wall, covered in blood. His blood.

His hoarse voice called for me. He ordered me to retread the hand gun mounted on the wall. Why I asked him.

Not knowing you;d change from just one bite. I fought them all off just to hold you close and tight.

You have to kill me, he gasped, holding the side of his neck.

And end the direst.

I shook my head and choked on a sob. “If you loved me, you would.” I stared at into his bloodshot hazel green eyes. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. A few tears cascaded down my cheeks, mixing with the blood of the damned. I ran a hand through his matted hair, and pressed my warm lips to his cold ones.

And if I had the guts to put this to your head. And would anything matter if your already dead? Should I be shocked by the last thing you said? Before I pull this trigger, your eyes vacant and stained.

“I love you,” he whispered as he sobbed. “I love you too,” I sobbed, putting the barrel of the gun to his head.

And saying you loved me, made things harder at best.

I continued crying, and sobbed even louder the second I pulled the trigger.

And I'll end this direst.

I walked into the next room, pulling him as gently as possible. I layed him on his bed. I kissed my hand and slayed it over his still heart, before walking out into the late dawn sunrise.

And does anyone notice, there's a corpse in the bed?