It was a beautiful sunny day in September, and summer was almost at an end.
The sky was bright and clear as I looked out the window of my third-floor classroom, ignoring whatever it was my math teacher seemed to be saying. I had a feeling something good was going to happen today.
Suddenly, I heard a student yelling in the schoolyard—a low roar that seemed to reverberate all the way to the bottom of my stomach. It was an incredibly urgent sound, but I figured some kids must just be fooling around during PE. Our class was interrupted for a few seconds, but it didn’t seem like anything to seriously worry about.
However, the number of voices echoing through the halls kept increasing. A few people naturally became suspicious and went to the balcony to see what was going on—and they screamed.
That drew everyone’s attention, so the rest of the class also went out onto the balcony. I followed them and looked below…
Puddles of blood stained the white sand, while several boys in sweats lay collapsed on the ground. I shivered, realizing that the screams I’d heard were cries of terror, and my hair stood on end.
“Someone dangerous might have broken in,” the teacher said. “Don’t go outside.” Then he rushed out of the classroom and ran down the stairs to the first floor.
We looked around the schoolyard in horror. It was then that some of the students lying on the ground rose and began walking unsteadily toward the school building.
“Oh good, they’re okay.”
“They can’t be; look at how much they’ve bled out.”
“Maybe it’s a prank.”
“A bit much for a prank, don’t you think?”
“Could it be for a movie or something?”
We came up with all sorts of different explanations, and the class agreed to wait for our math teacher to return.
Then one of my classmates said a news site he was watching had gone haywire. I checked my phone and saw the word zombie splashed across all the headlines, with stories saying an unprecedented disaster was currently taking place throughout the country.
Although we were skeptical, several students tried to call the police, but no one could get through.
It was hell from there on out. Some people panicked and screamed and cried, while others tried desperately to get their hands on anything that might serve as a weapon. The same classmates who’d been laughing with each other only moments earlier began arguing, and I noticed several zombies standing behind the window that looked out into the hallway.
Their skin was gray, and their eyes a cloudy white that made it hard to tell what they were looking at. Saliva dripped from their half-open mouths.
Those unmistakably unearthly monsters swarmed around the door, trying to enter the classroom.
My classmates scrambled out onto the balcony. I tried to follow them, but it was already overflowing with people. The other classrooms were all the same—students panicking and rushing to the balcony with nowhere else to run.
Soon after, the door to our classroom broke down, and the zombies rushed in. Some of my classmates ran out into the hallway, looking for a way out, and I decided to follow them.
The school building was already full of zombies. As classmates running nearby were caught and eaten one after another, I single-mindedly raced down the stairs.
My lungs felt like they would burst, but I knew I would die if I stopped.
In the end, I was the only one who made it off the school grounds.
But outside the school was hell, too. Traffic accidents and fires had broken out everywhere, and black smoke filled the air.
What the hell’s going on…? The only thing I could think of was that I was asleep and having some sort of terrible nightmare…
The shock of it all was too much, and I couldn’t remain standing any longer. I collapsed into a nearby bush and tried to calmly recall what had happened in the past few minutes, but none of it seemed real.
I lay there in a daze for a while, but nothing changed, no matter how much time passed. I didn’t seem to be waking up, and there was no sign of anyone else escaping from the school building.
Whatever—I couldn’t stay in this spot forever. First, I tried to call my grandparents at home, but I soon realized my phone didn’t have reception. Maybe everyone had tried to call to see if their friends were okay, and the server had gone down…
I felt like smashing my phone on the ground, but I managed to control myself. Maybe I’d get a signal later.
Still, I had no way to call for help. I had to do something on my own…
I made up my mind. I started walking home.
I couldn’t use the train, though, of course, and I came across a lot of zombies on the road. I managed to get away since they moved so slowly, but I was getting exhausted, and it ended up taking me more than five hours to get home.
Barely making it back alive, I finally stepped inside my house and heard the sound of the TV coming from the living room. I spotted Mom’s shoes in the entryway and figured she must have come home from work.
I locked the door so zombies couldn’t come in, then went into the living room, where I saw my mom, grandmother, and grandfather all standing there with their backs to me. I called out to them.
The three of them staggered and turned around: They were all zombies.
Their eyes were clouded, and their mouths hung slack. They were no longer the people I’d once known.
Standing there motionlessly, my brain no longer functioning, they must have seen me as prey. Those things that had previously been my family were now coming to eat me.
I quickly regained my senses and ran, but in the time it took me to unlock the front door, one of them bit my right hand.
I shook off my attacker and ran outside, charging ahead without looking back.
The thought crossed my mind that maybe it was only a shallow bite, and I’d be safe, but I was too scared to look at the wound.