An Unknown Island

3 P.M, in an unknown place, on an unknown island.

In a house right smack in the middle of a suburb of a huge metropolis, sat a boy. His appearance was unpleasant to most, being around six feet tall and having a quite astonishingly large belly, appearing quite fat for a teen boy. The belly was really quite a surprise, sagging down to the boy's knees.

This guy, John, sighed a long sigh. His appearance in this area was conspicuous; the entire suburb looked like it had been abandoned for far too long. The only signs of recent life were John, and a dead girl lying in the center of the street near the house he was in.

Sighing again, John swept his eyes over the suburb again, looking pensive. Seeing no one, he exhaled slowly, some caution fading from his eyes, though some small yearning never faded from his face. "After seeing that girl get shot in front of me, I'm not sure if I want anybody to find me," he mused. "Not sure how long I'll last though."

Once again letting out a long breath, John looked over the street once more before heaving himself out of the poor chair that had had to support him for more than a long while. After struggling to get his fat body to have any modicum of balance, he ambled to another room, one stacked near to the brim with a ton of non-perishable food and drink.

Grabbing a grape soda and several large bags of potato chips, true to his form, he went down to the first floor of his current residence, where he plopped himself onto a slumped over a couch and started munching away, stopping only to take swigs of warm grape soda.

The house wasn't bad, actually. It was a standard three-bedroom, two-bathroom townhouse, graced with two floors plus a basement John didn't dare to explore. It was clear that whoever lived here before was quite well off, they even had their own separate electrical grid and water system. It was quite astonishing really. Even the toilets were fancy.

After finishing his food, John yawned dispiritedly. Releasing another long sigh, he went back upstairs and into the master bedroom, closing the curtains on the window and plopping himself on the huge king size bed before turning on the T.V and watching the movie already in the player, Banana Coke. After watching this one for a while, it really got boring.

Hours passed by, and the sky darkened into a pitch-black canvas of depression. John, still adhering to his days of military training, who would've thought, turned off the television as he sought to maintain a mostly normal sleep schedule. He almost fell asleep, he was even about to pass out, until his eyes rapidly snapped open.

"How could I have forgotten about that!"

Stumbling out of bed, John flipped on the lights and groggily wiped his eyes while he scanned the room for something. "Where are they?" he wondered. Opening the bedroom door with a soft bang, he wandered throughout the house, looking for something important enough to ruin his hard-found sleep habit. After searching almost every room, his eyes finally lit up as he found the items of his search.

"Finally found them!" John breathed a sigh of relief as he beheld two guns, an assault rifle, and a pistol, along with several magazines of ammo. Carrying his precious prizes up back to his room, he set them up near enough in case they were needed and settled back into bed.

He was none too soon either, because right when he got comfortable, his trusty pistol under his pillow, streaks of light began flashing across the night sky, accompanied by booming sounds of gunfire and explosions. The seemingly peaceful island during the day became a terrifying hellscape once the curtain of night fell.

John let out his last sigh of that day before grabbing his pistol reassuringly and finally collapsing into the deep recesses of a chaotic sleep. As he drifted into the ever knowing dream world, the gunfire and explosions continued, painting the island a bloody shade of red. This was an island, an unknown island where no one knew of it.