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We Are Not All Survivors

Patrick Flynn

The country is so beautiful in the summer, thought Patrick as he observed his surroundings.
The sky was a warm blue, the clouds so fluffy and warm but always cold and wet. Ireland was always beautiful when you got the right day for it.
Patrick stroked his Irish Wolfhound Sophie, her tongue lolling out of her head. Patrick smiled when she looked up at him with those big brown eyes of hers.
What will she do when I'm gone?
Patrick brushed the thought out of his head and went back to idly scratching behind her ears. He had made his decision a long time ago, and he wasn't going to back out now.
He felt his hand find the farmer's shotgun he had scavenged the week before. He could not believe his luck at the time. Firearms were illegal in Ireland, but any farmer worth his salt had a gun or two lying about.
Patrick had been waiting for a gun. He knew that you had to damage the brain to prevent coming back. His mother had learned that when she hand hung herself after Patrick's younger sister got bit. She had nearly fallen to pieces when Father died, but she just gave up when Saoirse was bit.
Even though Patrick had tried everything. He stayed with her, he didn't go on runs any more to assure her.
But then the food ran out. He knew that she'd try something, he knew it in his heart, but he left anyway. It was almost as if God was mocking him that day. He had found food, water, medicine, new clothes and dog food for Sophie. When he realized how much he had scavenged, the dark thoughts of his mother flew out the window and were replaced with pure joy.
He had ran back that day, his heart light. He had called her, and didn't worry at first when she didn't reply. He assumed that she was asleep.
He had buttered a roll for her and went up with it, smiling. That smile vanished when he found her hanging from the ceiling.
"The selfish cow," he said aloud. His parents had been fervent Catholics, and had raised him to speak like a proper gentleman. That meant no swearing.
"F-Fu......." his voice trailed off. He so wanted to curse, one last act of defiance to the bastardy world before he left it.
He grabbed the shotgun, loaded it and placed it under his chin.
He cussed as he pulled the trigger, one last act of defiance.
Bits of brain matter and flesh went all over Sophie. Even for a dog, she was stunned.
After a while, hunger took her, and she began to eat the remainder of Patrick's brains.

Notes

Comments

I just read this all again, miss it so much :) is BreezePhantom12 no longer writing? I was super bummed to see that their stories were gone :(

thewalkerinme thewalkerinme
7/22/14

@BreezePhantom12 Cooleo! Looking forward to it x

thewalkerinme thewalkerinme
7/1/14

@thewalkerinme
This is more kind of a "breather" story. We kinda like to update whenever we feel. I might try to put out a chapter or two soon along with some Interview ones, so stay tuned! :)

Missing this fic sooooo much, need new chapter... Soon...

thewalkerinme thewalkerinme
6/30/14

@thewalkerinme
Thank you so much!