The Undead-Personal Narrative

When I was mad and wanted to kill people and then it was the zombie Apocalypse. I found people a lot of people ,and they said can I join you. I said yes if you follow my lead and follow my rules and everything will be all good.

It’s a dark and cloudy day at Salome High School. Not a single living being to be seen, why is that? You see it started out as a normal Monday morning; I was grabbing my breakfast from the lunch lady when she sneezed as loud as a horn on my food. I was appalled and walked away; however, everyone else seemed to enjoy the snot filled waffles. I decide to take a nap in the library until the first bell rang, little did I know it wasn’t going to. I awake to a loud thump outside, I ponder the time I spent sleeping. When I opened up the blinds I was shocked to see all the blood on the window. I know exactly what this is, the zombie apocalypse. You see, scientist have been predicting the apocalypse for a few months now and I’ve been preparing. I grabbed

The day started like that of any other these last couple of weeks. Mysterious incidents kept popping up in the news, of small groups going mad and becoming savage. Life was like that in Lampeter. Very little going on in town, whilst the whole world around us lives with a constant stream of danger. Some people were getting worried, afraid it was some sort of virus going around, but that happens all the time. One small case of a disease and the world’s in an epidemic. Happened with bird flu, E-coli, and we had just got over the joys of swine flu. Now this. Some people were becoming wary, uneasy around other people, fears of catching this mystery virus afflicting the nation and forcing its way into people’s minds. The unfortunate thing was,

Cozy coffee shops, warm summers, friendly hugs…1.2.3. Disastrous events occur all the time. We are always aware that someone, somewhere in the world, is hurtling forwards into tragedy. Tragic endings leave behind unanswered questions, unfulfilled dreams, unspoken thoughts. Those who love you are left behind, in the dust of your presence, spent to forever remember only your memory, not your existence. Crisp slices of toast, piping hot cups of tea, fresh strawberries…1.2.3. We all tend to forget an end exists. We spend our lives compiling as many happy memories as we can, fully enjoying the good days, deeply mourning the sad ones. When tragedy strikes, only then are we reminded that the end is there, and we scurry and try once again to make the most out of

Imagine, if you will, a brisk night wind coming fast across a lake carrying a pungent smell, something you can’t quite identify, but is nonetheless familiar enough to send a shiver up your spine. As it hits the trees, they creak out a somber call in the still night air. Or was that groan something more…human? You notice, for the first time, the absence of tires humming on pavement and you wonder if it’s that late, or maybe just a slow night. The soft tapping of your shoes on the sidewalk is the only accompaniment your slow breathing has as you move towards the warmth of your home, holding thoughts of a warm bed in the palm of your hand to keep the chill away. You don’t notice at first, perhaps because the reality of what you’re hearing is

I will never forget my life before the Red Death took over my town. Before the Red Death overtook most of my town, I had a great fulfilled life. I was married to the lord and we were part of royalty. My day started at dawn. Mass and prayers would be made and I would be served by my maids; this is also the time where my maids would help me get my dress on for the day. After breakfast I had discussions about many of things such as tournaments and poetry. My favorite part of the day was when I got to educate the girls who had been sent to my households. When the morning was over and the afternoon began, my noblewomen duties turned into housewifely duties. My afternoon was spent supervising meals and ensuring that stores were sufficient. I

Please, oh please let the words come. I sit, and stare, and type, and I backspace. No one will like it. My work is crap. Crap, crap, crap. I crumple my paper watch it fall. The clock taunts with its ticking reminding me of all I want to forget. It creates a beat; a song. Poetic chords and dismal notes ring in my ears. But no, this is thought I should avoid. I am great- better than great. People will love this. Oh please, please, please let them love this. Will my legacy amount to nothing more than abysmal hope? This is the last time I think of it. Oh please don’t let me think of it. The blank page stares at me and I begin to write. One word, then another, then another, and another. You will never know what comes out onto the page until it is

My family has passed away a few years back due to infection. I was distraught because I didn't know how to do anything on behalf of my mother and her doing everything even in the zombie apocalypse. Then, I decided that it’s not like they are going to come back and help me and if they did come back they would be zombies. I learned how to cook the food we had and I picked up a hobby. My mom would make us wool blankets for the years and she had so much wool that I decided to knit also. But, now as I stand out here in this barren land I realize that, that isn’t going to help me. While I’m thinking this I see a woman or what I hope is a woman. She has long, dark brown hair and reminded me of my mom. I start to follow this woman and then she starts to run away from me. I start to run after her and this continues for about ten blocks and I get really tired. She must have also been tired because they stopped running. I finally caught up to them. When this woman turned around I realized that she looked a lot like my mother. Then I see that she is holding a little baby girl. This girl I recognized from photos that my father had in the paper factory. This little girl is me and this woman is my

The zombie apocalypse had come hard and fast, taking the world and its inhabitants by storm. I would like to say biggest worry had been for those around me, for the future, and how I would survive. That hadn’t been the case, however. My biggest concern had steamed from needing a weapon.

Slowly, I stood up. I quickly went through my mental checklist to make sure I had the five things I'd need in a rush. You never know when you're going to have to make a run for it. Topographic road map with population charts, check. That quick trip the the history hall was worth it. Wooden pencil, check. It’s a good thing I was the artist that preferred these over mechanical pencils. Can opener, check. Canned food doesn’t mean much if you can’t get to the food. Butterfly knife, check. As much as I prefer to avoid the zombies, sometimes you need to dispatch one. It’s us or them, now. A .40 caliber, 15 round Glock 22, check. I try not to use it, but it’s handy in a pinch. I quickly shove everything into my bag and stand, looking out the window

I told her what happened. She got there as soon as the ambulance got there. Somebody could’ve been dead by the time the ambulance got there. They came in and checked her. The paramedics and the emts told her she can’t be doing all that energetic exercise. They took her out the house on the stretcher into the ambulance van. My father told us to straighten up before we left to go with my auntie. When we got done she told us to go get some clothes. We did as we was told. When i got done, looked out the window and seen that the ambulance was still outside. I went outside to be nosey. They told my father he couldn't get in to check on my mother, so he was standing on the porch watching from a far distance. I was curious to what they was doing to

Super confident I was. Confident that I would would make it out the zombie horror house without a scream. As I approached the entrance door, my heart began to drop slowly and horrifically. As I walked inside all I saw what seemed to look like a hospital type of theme. A door barricaded with the words “DON’T OPEN DEAD INSIDE”. All the lights broken, wires hanging down the ceiling and blood all through out the floor. As I turned the corner I saw a door, as I walked inside it seemed to be a way out that lead me to a field. A large field filled with crops and grass as I walked further in I began to see to something that seemed to be red. It was blood scattered all over the floor, as a look further I saw what seemed to be half of a zombie's body still dead but alive crawling towards me. I tried my best to avoid it but some how it got near me I

I would hide in the auditorium box where all the controls for the lights, music and speakers are controlled. This would be the perfect spot to avoid the walking dead since they would have to climb up stairs to reach this area. Also this specific area has three ways of making an escape route with heavy equipment to block the doorways. The ultimate plan would be to mix substances in the chemistry lab to throw at the zombies and blow them into mince meat pieces. This would include the brain since that is the only way to kill a zombie. The five things I would need for survival would be a pack of very sharp number 2 pencils to aim toward the zombies brain, heavy AP textbooks, some chemistry supplies, something that causes loud noise such as a boombox

If I had to come up with a zombie apocalypse plan on the fly, I would probably fail. Luckily this essay has given me a chance to think about what I would do in this situation. If I wanted I could mess around and steal stuff that I wanted, but that’s the way to ending up dead. Every human needs three things in order to survive, food, water, and shelter. Since I’m already on a school campus when the apocalypse happens, I can start gathering items right away.

I am a big fan of horror movies. My favorite movie is, “The Night of The Living Dead”. I’m choosing the piece “Night on Bald Mountain” from Walt Disney’s movie “Fantasia”. This piece was originally composed by Modest Mussorgsky. It’s currently used a lot around Halloween in commercials, such as the Reese cup commercials. When Mussorgsky composed this I think his intention was for it to be a dark piece that would make the hairs on your arm rise. From the title it tells the listener about the setting (Bald Mountain) and that there’s a tale that goes along with it because of “A Night”. We all have a story based on a particular day or night and where and how the event happened. According to many sources, it was about a meeting amongst witches on