It had been two hours since the virus ripped through our school. I was sat in Biology next to the closest thing I had to a friend when his neck was gorged on by the class clown. Thinking it was just a joke, I joined in and pretended to bite his arm. Seconds later when the gore flew from the funny man’s mouth, I realised that I was very wrong. After freaking out with the others in the class and then watching them slowly get picked apart by their peers, I was eventually left alone. They shuffled around me as I whimpered at my desk, but I was left completely unscathed. After a half hour of cowering, I knew it was time to fight back.
My mother always told me I should make more effort to be ‘social’. What ever it was she meant by that, I’m sure it wasn’t this. Staring down the horde of undead highschoolers, I could see the lifeless faces of my ex-classmates. Holding the nail gun from Wood Shop in one hand and the pot lid from the Food Tech kitchens in the other, I steeled myself, before sprinting into the pack. Bashing the mindless marauders with the lid and popping particularly defiant ones in the head with nails, I eventually made my way through the hallway to the exit out onto the school yard.
Today's Prompt: social
If you'd like to participate too, the contest can be found here: @mariannewest/day-1353-5-minute-freewrite-monday-prompt-social