I'm Not Alone | Teen Ink

I'm Not Alone

October 7, 2011
By xxapophisxx SILVER, Bettencourt, Michigan
xxapophisxx SILVER, Bettencourt, Michigan
6 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
"You smell that? Smells like Teen Spirit in here."

I’m not alone
My name is Damon; I am a Pokémon trainer, or at least I was before the infection hit. The infection was horrible, it wiped out Manhattan within three days. It turned thousands of good people into bloodthirsty zombies.

My wife and I owned a condo in the northern part of Manhattan. It didn’t take long for my wife and most of our tenants to be infected. That left just me and my Pokémon. The world is ending, but at least I’m not alone.
We drove out of Manhattan to find that the rest of the world was also infected. We fought off each zombie hoard for days, until finally we reached Brooklyn. Signs told us that Brooklyn was not infected, but of course it was just as much of a ghost town as the rest of the world was. So, this is where I’ll start the story.
I look both ways before I cross the street on the empty Boulevard. Cars are scattered all over the street, like sleeping monsters just begging to be woken. A gust of wind bounces down the street. The windows on the skyscrapers that surround me all groan, which makes me scan the area again. I reach the grocery store across the street. Signs that say, Closed due to infection, hang crooked on the windows. The front door is boarded up so I climb through a broken window. My Pokémon follow close behind.
The store is empty with canned food, wrappers, and broken glass on the floor. Shelves stretch all the way to the back of the store. In the far corner is a set of stairs that I guess leads to the roof. My Pokémon Charizard, a big red dragon with two large wings on his back, taps me on the shoulder. “Yes, Charizard go ahead,” I say.
Charizard and my other Pokémon, Pikachu, a small yellow mouse-like Pokémon that can shoot electricity out of his tail, begin to scout the store for useful items. I walk toward the staircase, then stop in an aisle full of chips and Candy. I open my backpack and cram tons of Funions and Doritos into it. A low growl behind me tells me I’m not alone. The zombie is pale, slow, and a foot shorter than me, which would be funny if he wasn’t so scary looking. I push him back with my backpack, just as Charizard opens the freezer behind him. The zombie falls in the freezer, then Charizard shuts it. The zombie pounds on the glass, while Charizard blocks the door with a couple of full shopping carts. It’s a good thing I’m not alone.
“Thanks Charizard,” I say. Charizard nods, then leans up against the window. Suddenly, an alarm screeches throughout the building. A roar of thousands of zombies shakes the entire street as they charge toward us.
“We have to go! Where’s Pikachu?” I ask. Charizard just shrugs.

“Great!” I say sarcastically, “Let’s go!”
We start to charge out the doors but it’s too late, we’re surrounded. I turn around and head up the stairs. We bust out on the roof. Zombies are climbing up the building, using impressive climbing abilities. When these things want food they’ll do anything to get it. A zombie manages to get on the roof. I take my backpack off and hit the zombie over the head with it, as if it were a bat and a baseball. More keep running at us. Soon we will be overwhelmed. There’s nowhere to go…but up.
“Charizard fly us out of here!” Charizard takes off…without me.
Fear sets in. I’m so sure this is the end. My hands start shaking; I’m going to die. I’m begin to prepare for death, when I see a yellow flash in the corner of my eye. It’s Pikachu! He jumps in the air and shocks all the zombies, dropping them in their tracks. The light from his electricity blinds me temporarily. When my vision returns I see Pikachu standing in front of me. All the zombies are dead.
“Pikachu! You saved me! Thank you! You know, I used to think you were annoying because you’re stupid, fat, and have a really high pitched voice.” Pikachu’s smile melts into a scowl.
“You’re like a little yellow pig. I just want to punt you across the room sometimes,” I continue, “And what kind of name is Pikachu? It sounds like lyrics from a song by Lady Gaga,” Pikachu walks downstairs. “Pikachu? Where did you go? Pikachu?”

Out of nowhere the fire alarm goes off, and I see Pikachu running on all fours away from the building. I hear the roar of another hoard of zombies charging toward the building.

“Uh-oh.” I manage to squeak.
Now I’m alone.

The author's comments:
The Hand that feeds...

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