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Description
I awoke at what I assumed was a decent hour. I had no way to know, as the window was completely boarded up. I blinked and looked around, stretching my legs. I rolled over to cuddle up against my boyfriend-but he wasn't there. I sat straight up, my heart racing. I stood, grabbing my shotgun from the side of the dresser as I stepped out of the door and into the hallway. I held it at the ready, the butt under my arm, my fingers steady while I looked for and turned off the safety. I took a careful step, and then stopped to listen. Step, listen. Step, listen. Nothing came to my ears but my own breathing and heartbeat. I moved towards the kitchen and living room. Step, listen. Was that a creak? A shifting of weight on the old linoleum of the kitchen floor? Or was it just the creak of my tired joints? I listened hard, straining to hear something. Anything. There it was again, the shuffling of feet across the floor, the groaning of the house under its weight.

I looked out into the living room, where there was a bit of sunlight streaming through the cracks. The front door, I noted, was newly boarded up. Other than that, though, I saw nothing out of place. I swung the barrel of my gun towards the kitchen and fitted it into my shoulder. Here it was murkily dark and my only clues to my surroundings were shadows. What light there was filtered in from the living room, and I blocked them out when I stepped into the doorway. So much for my element of surprise. Before I had time to react, a form turned from the far side of the kitchen. I saw a glint of something metal and probably sharp-a blade. I yelped and pulled the trigger, afraid for my life.

The bang was deafening. The sounds bounced from every surface. The form in front of me stumbled backwards and fell down, slumped against the wall. I kept my gun at the ready as I carefully approached the figure. To my horror, I recognized the jeans and tee, even through the blood that covered them. I dropped my gun and fell to my knees, almost sitting on my boyfriend as I found his hand, then his arm, then his face. He looked at me and seemed to smile. In that brief showing of teeth, I felt that he was proud of me, and that he felt that I would go far in this new and terrifying world. I whispered his name, before gathering my wits and ripping off my shirt and pressing it to the large wound in his torso.

Description
I awoke at what I assumed was a decent hour. I had no way to know, as the window was completely boarded up. I blinked and looked around, stretching my legs. I rolled over to cuddle up against my boyfriend-but he wasn't there. I sat straight up, my heart racing. I stood, grabbing my shotgun from the side of the dresser as I stepped out of the door and into the hallway. I held it at the ready, the butt under my arm, my fingers steady while I looked for and turned off the safety. I took a careful step, and then stopped to listen. Step, listen. Step, listen. Nothing came to my ears but my own breathing and heartbeat. I moved towards the kitchen and living room. Step, listen. Was that a creak? A shifting of weight on the old linoleum of the kitchen floor? Or was it just the creak of my tired joints? I listened hard, straining to hear something. Anything. There it was again, the shuffling of feet across the floor, the groaning of the house under its weight.

I looked out into the living room, where there was a bit of sunlight streaming through the cracks. The front door, I noted, was newly boarded up. Other than that, though, I saw nothing out of place. I swung the barrel of my gun towards the kitchen and fitted it into my shoulder. Here it was murkily dark and my only clues to my surroundings were shadows. What light there was filtered in from the living room, and I blocked them out when I stepped into the doorway. So much for my element of surprise. Before I had time to react, a form turned from the far side of the kitchen. I saw a glint of something metal and probably sharp-a blade. I yelped and pulled the trigger, afraid for my life.

The bang was deafening. The sounds bounced from every surface. The form in front of me stumbled backwards and fell down, slumped against the wall. I kept my gun at the ready as I carefully approached the figure. To my horror, I recognized the jeans and tee, even through the blood that covered them. I dropped my gun and fell to my knees, almost sitting on my boyfriend as I found his hand, then his arm, then his face. He looked at me and seemed to smile. In that brief showing of teeth, I felt that he was proud of me, and that he felt that I would go far in this new and terrifying world. I whispered his name, before gathering my wits and ripping off my shirt and pressing it to the large wound in his torso.