I've been inspired by, Yagr's blogs and Wil Wheatons, both of which have had short stories in recently..
And i've put my own together. It's basically in it's first draft state still, apologise for any mistakes etc
It's entitled... Homeless
I stumbled past my old house and continued down an ally close by. I grunted, as the streetlights shone on my face, and picked up my pace. I had not run into anyone for days, these streets were now desolate and were getting colder as the days progressed.
It was late December, if that is correct, my mind was now scrambled, as if anything mattered anymore.
Having no home meant I really had no where to go, or anywhere to be. Chasing the smell of what I thought was food I only hoped it would be enough to tide me over.
My clothes were torn to shreds as I had no need for my belongings on the streets, so they were now probably spread across town.
If you saw me walking towards you, you would think I had a injury as I walked with a limp, and probably run in the other direction. From what I was a couple of weeks ago to what I am now is a sad tale, one I'm not going to explain.
I had become a monster and now lived day by day.
This is not to make you feel sorry for me, I was the one stupid enough to end up this situation. It wasn't always like this, I was once successful.
But i'm not the only one like this, there are plenty more just like me in the exact same situation. With nothing better to do with there day than roam the streets.
I turned the corner still following this odour, now closing in on it. Staggering, faster and faster, I came to an animal on the floor. Dropping to my knees I tilted my head to take a look at it, sniffing it before proceeding.
Surprisingly, what I did next did not disgust me, or even hinder me, I dug straight in. I could hear something behind me and before I could begin to enjoy the meal something hit me in the back of my head.
"Dad, over here, i've got one!" A young boy, around 16, shouted. With those words an even bigger man came running over, panting as he did so.
"Are you alright?" The father said. As he did so I laid on the floor, blood beginning to pour from my wound. I coughed and groaned but they didn't seem to care. They both stepped over me and looked down in amazement.
"I'm fine" The younger male said "what are these things."
"Things?" The father said raising his spade and slamming down onto my head "they're zombies."