Prompt 2: Zombie Invasion

Crap. It’s happened. I knew I should have started running weeks ago. Yeah, I know zombies can’t run but shit, they are persistent. Like water. They will keep coming and they will probably never stop, unless there is a tastier , or louder distraction in the distance. But let’s be honest. If I’m running my thunderous steps and the sounds of a dying whale that will no doubt be coming out my mouth will give me away in 30 seconds flat.  I need a plan. My family has already be turned, so I need to move my furniture in front of my door… As quietly as possible. Let me text everyone and see if they have survived, goddamn why is there suddenly no service. The electricity is still running so that’s something. Crap, okay. I’m on my own but that’s fine.

Let’s see, there are twenty-nine floors in this apartment building, around eight apartments per floor with at least four people per apartment.  With workers that’s at least 933 people...uh zombies, in this building and 232 apartments with food, supplies and let’s be real, weapons, knives, bats and if I’m lucky a gun or two. I don’t think zombies are smart enough to know how unlock doors with keys so everyone who was in their apartment should be contained. I can use my bobby pins and old credit cards and my hammer to pick or force open other doors. Do zombies know how to climb buildings? The height thing can work to my advantage. If secure the building floor by floor I should be good for a long while.

Oh my gosh! Yes make-up! Zombies recognize other zombies by sight and probably scent. I can use my make up to disguise myself as a zombie! I can probably rip some of my old clothes apart and maybe confuse them for scent.  Zombies smell like rot and mold. Mold! My sister old plant was smelling funky cause it couldn’t decide how much water it wanted to intake. Perfect I’ll just rub that around myself until I can get to the fridge and get some actual meat to let rot in my pockets. Okay let me grab some of my backpacks. I’ll start with the apartment next door. But what about my family? I think they’d rather be dead than live as the undead. I don’t actually want to kill them though… but if I can push them off the roof the height should get them and I won’t have to witness it. I can use my camera stand to hold them off until I get them over the edge. Sorry guys, it’s a battle of survival.

I move the furniture from the entrance to my bedroom.  It gets the attention of my undead family, I can hear their groaning and moaning from behind the wooden door. Here we go, and may God have mercy of my soul. I throw my door open and begin the first battle of the long war that will no doubt follow.

Writing Challenge - Prompt 1: LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION

The undetectable scent of the burnt out light bulb lingers not in scent but in consequence in the small cramped bedroom on the cold and blizzardy night in New York City. Frustration and annoyance bounce off the walls along with the echo’s of an angry man passive aggressively shutting off the apartments lights to force his daughters to go to bed. Apparently 2:01 am is not a time for productivity but sleep. Of course, unable to really spread out to other spaces the spongy full bed is no longer associated with sleep. Half of it occupied by a tall snoring woman, her feet against the headboard and hear on the footboard. Saying much about her personality. The other fourth of the bed covered by a trench coat that allows the wearer to emulate the personality of a certain Sherlock Holmes, of course with some genderbendering, it adds flavor. And lastly, the final fourth holds a red cotton blanket much to small for the user, the other half of the sibling duo as she types away her prompt for the day.

The window is barely cracked, just enough to counterbalance the hot steam for the radiator beneath it. The youngest of the daughters likes to live on the edge, many winters ago on a blizzard much stronger than this the window was left opened. It was an interesting experience battling the cold and she wouldn’t mind reliving it again. Maybe it would quicken someone’s apartment hunt. Not that she wants her to leave but honestly she might be a small hoarder of things and doesn’t want to sacrifice the material emotions that surround her for another, even if they can’t follow her after death.

On the floor, the chaos of the mother tornado that evaded her room when she was out running errands. Dolls, much too childish for the current inhabitants still linger in random places next to burnt up cigarettes and hookah pens, hiding condoms and gum wrappers. Items that shouldn’t be mixed together but its like time has gotten confused and everyone is living and coexisting at the same time. Time lines can be confusing.

Christmas flowers and dried up leaves try to bring festivity though they are unwater and Christmas has long passed. Books are stacked next to unused school supplies most hold the promise of being read, but that is yet to happen. Ha.

Regardless of the state of the room, it is certain that it holds all the wishes of many young girls of freedom and liberty and trying to find the keys to free her. So much can be inferred yet nothing can be completely told by the items in room. Unless of course you read the diaries. They would probably make sure to burn those before death anyway.

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Word Count: 464 

Even though the word count goal was suppose to be 500 words, I think I did pretty well for my first prompt completion.