I sometimes wondered why I survived. Why me, out of everyone in my town, was the one left standing. I could only think of one thing to answer that question. I was so unappealing to anyone, that even the bloodthirsty zombies didn’t want me.
It’s amazing that ugliness ended up being my saving factor.
And a bit depressing, considering I didn’t actually find myself half bad before now. Well, fuck that. If ugliness left me with more than an ounce of humanity left, then I’m pretty okay with it. I’d rather be an grotesque human than a gorgeous zombie.
What constitutes a gorgeous zombie anyway? Blood and guts in just the right places?
…
You know you’ve been affected by this shit hole of a world when you start making jokes about those out to maim you. Well, not exactly maim, but maiming and devouring are pretty much the same thing right? No? Not even close? The way I see it, you die either way. At least one way doesn’t make you want to loose your lunch – or take a bullet to the head - as much as the other. ‘Cause everyone gets a bit suicidal when you just could be the last person left in this world.
Okay, the last human that doesn’t have an intense affection for the taste of man brains.
Braiiinnssssssssss…
I guess George Romero had one thing right in Night of the Living Dead.
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