I rocked back and forth in my corner of the old bowling alley.

Why? Why hadn't the shank just killed me? I trusted him and he let me down! Now, thanks to him, I'm going to slowly go insane along with the rest of the loving world.

At least I wasn't past the Gone yet. But that almost made it worse. The human and animalistic sides of me battling for control, both knowing full well who'd win. Yes, it was worse knowing how wrong everything was. Feeling the urge to gnaw people's arms out of their sockets, and craving it more than anything but at the same time being completely revolted at the thought. At myself for even feeling like that.

If I was brave enough, I'd do it myself. But I didn't have a gun nor the guts to. I'd tried it once. I jumped off a wall in the bloody maze. But I chickened out, and attempted to go back after I was already falling. It made for an awkward landing position which ended my career as a Runner, not my life.

I wish I had gone through with it then. So I didn't have to go through this now.

I stopped rocking. I felt a tear leak from my eye. Then another. And another. Until I was full out bloody crying.

But I was fine with it. It wasn't the need to eat children's faces, so I was fine with it.

What if, I thought between silent sobs, I was alive before the Flare?

I let the thought sink in, and, as I ventured into the beautiful realm of sleep and escape from this hell I was forced to endure, it grew more and more desirable.