RudyGasparrini

I got used to death before, after my grandmother, my uncle Peter, and a few of my parents' high school friends. I thought I'd be able to get used to it out here too, but I guess things are different when you're the one causing the death and when you have no one to help you get over it.

I wish I could do things right. For myself, for the people around me, the people I love. It never works out that way though. I do stupid shit and it has consequences, I know it does but I keep doing it. It's like my body will do anything to survive but my mind wants the exact opposite. 

This is not a story about love. It is not a story about heartbreak but my life revolves around that. After what I did to him it's all it can revolve around. I deserve death. He deserved to take me with him, but he didn't. Unfortunately I'm still here.



---A spin-off to the After Death series. This story focuses on a new group of survivors, including an apocalypse-orphaned 17 year old boy from Ohio named Valentine Evans, as they struggle to make a life for themselves. 

Warning: This story contains adult content and is intended only for mature audiences

FEAR WHAt I'LL BECOME AFtER DEAtH

Chapter 9: Gotta Find a Way to Live

Harpfield wasn't a safe place. I mean, it was, but it didn't stay that way. After Valentine left, we found it. We stayed there for a while, but it didn't last. The people were anxious; they didn't know how to fight. We went back to Harpfield with more people than we ran away with. We lost Abby in the attack, but she survived, and we met back up with her a week later.

We knew Harpfield was a dangerous place. Everyone but Val knew the pain it caused us, but we went back because we needed something familiar. We needed something we could call home. I didn't know it would be as bad as it was. I didn't think the dead would stick around like they did; there was nothing for them here anymore.

I wish I had taken on more leadership. I wouldn't have taken the judgmental shit from everyone. And I sure as hell wouldn't have let us keep going on like this. The way we were living was not living. Harpfield was not the answer, and Arwen knew that; the others did too. I would have made sure we weren't afraid. Being afraid was what was slowing us down.

When we got to Harpfield, the dead were everywhere. We climbed a ladder and jumped from rooftop to rooftop because they flooded the streets. We all apparently had a death wish that day. We could have turned around and left, but we didn't. Some people slipped and almost died. The roofs were moldy; we almost fell through. It wasn't worth it in the long run.

Arwen was right—there were supplies, at least. Medical, ammunition, weapons, food—almost everything we needed, we just didn't have a way to enjoy it comfortably. Our stay in Harpfield didn't last even a day. Maverick and Cole packed everything into backpacks. We left the same way we came in, only that time it was more dangerous because the roofs were even more fragile. It wasn't all good, though. Once we thought we were in the clear, Nic slipped on the gutter. He tried to hold on to the edge of the roof, but the dead grabbed hold of his feet before we could rush back to him. They pulled him down until he couldn't be seen; only his screams could be heard. I couldn't help but watch as the monsters ripped his body apart. The horrifying scene left us traumatized and filled with grief. The loss of Nic reminded us of the harsh reality we were facing, not just in Harpfield but in every single place we would ever try to call home.

Chapter 9 (Gotta Find a way to Live)