My Brother Is A Zombie.

Gabrielle Young sat in front of the long mirror that was perched in the corner of her room. She posed, checking out her outfit and feeling a spark of confidence grow in her chest. She eyed each clothing one after the other, baggy ripped jeans, tucked shirt, a septum piercing that hung from her nose and shone a lovely gold. She smiled into the mirror as her wavy, brown hair hung just above her shoulders.She hated her first name. Gabrielle had grown on her badly, so instead, she stuck by the nickname 'Brie'."Do I look okay?" She turned to her brother, Adam, who was silently playing a game on his phone. He took a second to respond, his soft, brown hair flopping down into his eyes as he hunched over the colourful screen."Huh?" He looked up, sacrificing his game in the process. His soft, freckled face shone with admiration for his sister."You look great." He smiled and stood up with a jump. He trotted clumsily over to the window and glanced out with a thou

Brie felt her hands begin to shake with fright as wet blood was painted wherever Mr Anderson touched. His fingers slid along the glass, clawing, trying to get to her. He was infected. He was gone.   "Adam!" She cried, not being able to wait any longer. He came rushing up the stairs, his face red from standing up too quickly. His hair stuck up in different directions and he had marks from his pillow.   The banging stopped for a moment, followed by a dry heave. Brie watched as Mr Anderson's silhouette hovered by the window, bending over and vomiting violently on their porch.   After a long second of watching him, she realized he was just like the others. He was insane, thirsty for blood. He may be a feeble man, but if this virus got anywhere near them it would be game over.   He stood, staggering towards the window that led to their living room. He stepped back, and then Brie gasped as she saw him lung

Brie tiptoed carefully down the aisle. The stranger seemed confused, swinging his head around like a cat who'd stuck its head into a plastic bag. His long hair was getting trapped in things, restricting him slightly. "I'll find you! You did this to me." He growled, seething with rage, clawing himself along the shelves. Brie felt at her back pocket, grabbing the knife instinctively. She backed away simultaneously. Studying his face, she grimaced as his eyes oozed with blood and strange black gunk. His skin had shriveled as if he had died years ago. Brie didn't want to fight this guy. She turned and tried to creep away into a different lane. She needed to distance herself before she made her retreat. She zigzagged strategically then managed to find the glass doors that led to freedom. She squinted as the sun hit her face. The clouds had finally parted. "Are you

Brie sat with wide eyes. No way. No way was this real. On the computer screen, flashed four big words. "THE WORLD IS ENDING." She scrolled through twitter, seeing tweets on how to stay alive. Apparently, it was a virus only caught if the body fluids of a carrier entered your body. Brie glanced at Adam, thinking about his wound. What about Melissa? "Okay... Focus." She patted the desk and continued to read. Hopefully, there'd be something helpful, something to keep them alive. She spotted a specific article a stranger had made a few hours ago. 'Everything you need to know to survive the walkers.' Brie frowned. "Walkers?" She shrugged and kept reading. '1. Walkers are attracted to noise, movement, and smell. If their body isn't damaged enough, they will have enhanced senses. Avoid contact at all tim

Days passed, however, nothing too interesting seemed to occur. The world had fallen silent. The internet, which was once buzzing with information and panic, had also died. Without communication, the group seemed lost. They were getting weaker as their rations grew slim. Brie sat in the office chair of their new hideout. She spun around slowly, deep in thought. Soon enough, the power in this place would run short and they'd be engulfed in darkness, but how long did they have? Brie wanted to leave. She longed to find a group surrounded by protection. That usually happened in the movies. "Adam?" She pressed a foot to the ground and halted her spinning briefly. He turned his head from where he was sat, carving into the floor with a pocket knife. Below his hand, he'd drawn tally marks of the days that had passed. He finished his line, cutting through and marking a 'seven'. "Drama queen." Brie teased as he stood and pouted.