The Scars Of My Past

I can’t help but look around me as I run down the abandoned street. My canvas clad feet smacking harshly against the dirt road with my increasing stride. The early morning sun making it easy to see as the darkness lifts. My breathing became deafening as I continue to tire. I need to push on they need the medicine.

You’re not going to make it, the fever will kill all those effected all because you weren’t quick enough. That’s why they abandoned you the first time, isn’t it? You weren’t quick enough, It’s all your fault they left you. My subconscious speaks like I am a five year old in need of a scolding.

My uneven breathing grows harsh as my throat closes up with memories rushing back from my subconscious’ taunting. My fingers automatically go to the left side of my forehead to trace the ridge of the scar to its end just below my right eye.

Why is it whenever I’m alone I always end up drowning in the torment created by my own mind? Come on Bailey, you just have to get the medicine back to the others.

I start thinking about the group I am currently with. Sure they were nice but they mainly have children that survived the carnage. They almost always need me to go on supply runs but I can’t help myself from thinking they just want to get rid of me.

Imagine all the things they say behind your back, being branded with the shame of failure and rejection is the best thing that will ever happened to you. That scar warns others away from you. The disgust and the suspicion, it’s all clear on their faces. My subconscious cackles, delighted by their obvious disgust.

No! They don’t look at me like that, do they? I have to distract myself. Maybe if I look at the buildings.

The abandoned buildings around me were trashed when the apocalypse started. I remember when the first outbreak was reported, the infected were ripping people’s throats out. I always thought the apocalypse would have been caused by zombies but it’s not. Get this, the apocalypse started because of vampires and not the twilight kind of vampires. No these vampires don’t have glittery skin or look even remotely attractive. These vampires have rotten skin from the lack of food and their eyes are black bottomless pits. These monsters can go out in the sun without the fear of their skin burning. Their nails look like thick wires protruding from their fingertips reminding me of barbed wire. It is terrifying. I don’t ever want to get caught in the middle of a pack of them. I have seen it happen. I shudder from the atrocious memory, that’s not something I want to see ever again.

I knew I was nearing the compound due to the buildings having a stronger structure with more stability than the rubble around them and I knew I was nearly at the compound. I draw closer only to notice the screams and the sound of gunshots in the distance, my breath hitches as I sprint towards the wailing. How could this happen? The groups on patrol are excellent at spotting threats. Have they been attacked by another group? Is it those monsters? Have they been overrun?

My thoughts intensify as I stumble along the dirt road as fast as I can.

I have to help them! I need to help them!

What and risk your own life? You’re too cowardly to consider that. My appalled subconscious spat.

They helped me when I was lost. I need to be able to help them when they need it.

The only reason they help you is because they need some mindless drone to do all their bidding. Think back do they ever try to make you feel comfortable? What do they want from you, that doesn’t involve you running around. Don’t be stupid abandon them! My subconscious all but screams at me as I continue towards the compound.

No, they don’t ask me for anything but errands but I don’t care! They took me in, they could have left me to those monsters and I would never have survived but they didn’t so I’m not going to abandon them.

You’re such a little bitch whimpering, waiting, hoping to save them. Bailey they aren’t making it out alive! Now turn around and leave! The presence in my head increases until a dull ache appears, I grip my head as I continue to run.

Stop please! Please stop I’m going to help them!

Fine if you want to die, please continue on the path you’ve chosen! The ache disappears and my subconscious with it.