Living In a Dead World

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. Mayah’s brother, Ben, allowed her to do this every so often.

In her brother’s room, she would often lie down, staring out the window at the sky, today the sky was light blue with the occasional white cloud drifting past. She sat up, looking at the thick wood across the road, the brown leaves now turned green, the start of spring. Just before the wood was a row of small bungalows. She often wondered what it must be like to live in a house with no stairs.

Her gaze wandered lazily toward the cars, long since abandoned outside of the now-empty houses. Mayah was once again reminded that she didn’t live the life she had when she was five. Now, at the age of twelve, things were a lot quieter. No longer was the blue sky filled with passing planes, or the roads clear of fast-moving cars. The sound of children playing happily in the nearby school had been silenced long ago.

Tears welled in her eyes as she turned her attention away from the window. It was moments like this when she wanted nothing more than to hug her mum or to hear soothing words from her dad. She preferred to think that they were out there somewhere, trying to get back to them.

“They’re dead,” Ben would often tell her, “Stop dreaming that they’re going to come back”. The words were harsh but true.

...

When Mayah was five the world as she had known it was destroyed. The details were fuzzy, what with her being too young to fully understand what happened, but there was only so much a young mind could do to forget seeing zombies appearing through the trees.

They had looked like people, only broken. Their skin was peeling away, limbs hung off them, if even there at all. For those that had faces, there was the look of hung, their teeth gnashed aggressively, that terrible clicking growing louder as they moved closer.

Ben and Mayah had watched from their home as the zombies caused chaos on their street. People were fleeing their homes, screaming as they tried to escape the fearsome army of the dead.

Mayah buried her head in her brother's chest, trying to hide herself from the screams of terror. She winced as people started to knock on their door, calling out to be let in. That was when Ben had dragged her into the attic. They climbed the ladder, quickly barricading the entrance, hoping it would all end soon.

Fort he young Mayah, she had curled up in the centre of the room, eyes closed tight, head in her hands, whispering frantically to wake up. She wasn’t willing to believe that this was really happening, that it was all some terrible nightmare. Then a thought popped into her head, “I want mum and dad!” she called out.

She moved towards Ben, who had taken place at the attic window, looking down at everything that was unfolding. He looked at me, trying desperately not to cry himself, “they’ll come back, don’t worry” he moved her away from the window, “just sit here quietly, I’ll keep an eye out for them”. He grabbed a nearby book, “why not read this?”.

Mayah did as she was told, opening the book. She still wasn’t sure what it was about. There were too many big words that she didn’t understand yet. It was also hard to concentrate as the terror outside only got louder.

It took a week for both Ben and Mayah to admit that their parents might not be returning. They had both looked out the window, wondering if they would spot either their mum or dad running toward the house. Instead, they saw nothing but death, broken bodies dragging themselves toward friends and neighbours.

That was when Ben started taking charge. He started to sneak downstairs, braving potential death to grab food and water.

At first, Mayah would sit at the entrance to the attic. She lived in fear that the zombies would hear them, that one heavy footstep from her brother would bring the zombies crashing into their home. This never happened. No matter how much noise Ben made, whether it was a creaky floorboard or the crash of the pots and pans in the kitchen, the zombies never found them.

Soon enough they realised it was safe enough to venture out of the attic together. They took it a day by day, spending more time wandering around their abandoned home. Until they felt entirely safe to re-live their lives outside of the attic.

When the food started to run low in the house, Ben knew he had to venture out of the house. It had almost been a month since the zombies had appeared, since they had seen their parents, since they had left the house. But he knew they wouldn’t survive another month unless he went out to find food.

Mayah wanted to go with him, but she was too young, too much of a risk when they didn’t know where the zombies were.

On that first day that Ben had ventured out of the house, Mayah couldn’t sleep. He had chosen to go at night, thinking the shadows would help keep him hidden from any zombies. Mayah had spent the night fretting, wondering if he would disappear, like her parents had. She immediately burst into tears when he came back the next morning.

...

Now, at 12 years old, Mayah still lived in hope that her parents would return. The zombies had seemingly disappeared, at least from the street they lived on. The screams of people in the distance had stopped years ago.

She had become used to being in the house on her own. If she wasn’t in her brother’s room, glancing out the window, she was in her own room, reading the books that Ben brought her while out on his supply missions.

This morning had been different though. It was now two days since she had seen Ben. Like always he had gone in search of supplies, only this time he hadn’t returned. This hadn’t been the first time he’d been delayed.

That last time he had been cornered by a passing horde. But that had been months ago, no such delay had happened since, and even then, it had only delayed him by a couple of hours. Never had he been gone more than a day.

Sat on Ben’s bed, Mayah glimpsed out the window once again. She looked up the hill, where the sun would soon set. Then back down to the bottom of the hill. She winced as she caught sight of a pile of corpses.

Anyone that hadn’t turned into a zombie simply died, their bodies becoming food for any passing zombie. Those that weren’t eaten were left to rot.

Mayah’s attention moved passed the decomposing pile, to the turning in the road. She’d spent the past few hours hoping that she would see Ben coming swaggering round the corner, much like she hoped her parents would return from the top of the hill. Her perfect dream would be for all of them to return at the same time.

She turned towards the bag that she had quickly packed this morning, hoping she wouldn’t need it. But as the sun reached the centre of the sky, she knew she had no choice but to go out and look for him.

There was little chance that she would survive out on her own, but she would rather risk venturing out in search of Ben or her parents, rather than eventually starving to death in an empty house.

She hauled the large backpack over her shoulder, filled with all the essentials like food and water, and headed downstairs.

Standing at the front door, she took one final look at her home. It had become dusty, falling apart in places, but it was still her home, and she was scared to leave what had been a sanctuary for all these years.

Her attention back on the door she took a deep breath, bracing herself for what she would soon face.

“You can do this,” she said aloud to herself. She didn’t move at first, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“you can do this,” she repeated, trying to calm herself, “just open the door”.

She took a deep breath, “ok, open it in 3”

Her hand shook as she gripped the door handle.

“2”

Sweat trickled down her back.

“1”

She pulled the door handle down sharply, the hinge unlatching itself. The door opened.