Steph’s Comments (group member since Dec 03, 2016)

Steph’s comments from the The Apocalypse Begins group.

WE'RE ALL CRAZY AS HELL

BECAUSE THEIR CRAZY AS HELL

Freddie felt embarrassed. "No, I don't need to stand behind you. I'm a man!" Freddie yelled, trying to impress Lacy. She rolled her eyes again. Freddie raised his broomstick to the guy's throat again. "We were here first, so please leave." Freddie asked politely. He didn't want to start a fight.

"Both of us could take you," Freddie said to the stranger, trying to tough but instead it came out as a low muffle.

Name: Dawson McDonald

Age: 12

Race: African American

Hair: Black afro

Eyes: Hazel

Height: 5'3

Weight: 103

Favorite Weapon: None

Deceased Family/Friends:
Mom
Dad
Twin brothers

Bitten? (yes/no): Yes

Living Family: None

Group Members: None

Skills: Intelligence

Weaknesses: Fear of other survivors

History: When Dawson was in school, all of a sudden his classmate Tara became infected and attacked the class. Dawson was bitten but no one had noticed. School was closed early and his parents and twin brothers picked him up from school. On the way home, their car was attacked by a horde of runners. His family was attacked and killed right in front him. Surprisingly, the runners acted like Dawson wasn't even there and left. Ever since, Dawson has been wandering around, helpless. None of the infected attack him because he has already been bitten, yet he hasn't turned. He is in search of a doctor who could help him with his condition.

Other:

Freddie slowly brought his broomstick from the stranger's throat. "Who are you and what do you want?" Freddie asked the stranger. Freddie had never met two survivors in one day. Hell, he had only met one survivor before Lacy.

"Who's he?" Freddie asked, rubbing his eyes. He immediately picked up his broomstick and pointed it to the stranger's throat. "Who are you?" Freddie asked, his hand shaking from nervousness.

((You have to make a character first to RP))

((Alex, did you make a character?))

Freddie feels a tug on his shoulder. He instantly wakes up, afraid it might be one of the infected. It's Lacy. "H-hey, what's up?" Freddie asks, rubbing his eyes.

(( Gotta go. We can finish tomorrow ;) ))

Freddie dreams about a normal world. A world where the dead stay dead. A world where his parents are still living, nagging him about his grades. A world where he can relax without looking over his back every 10 seconds. He misses that world. He then dreams about Lacy on her motorcycle, her red flowing in the wind, her cloud gray eyes focused on the horizon. He then realizes something. Can he really trust Lacy? Will she slit his throat in his sleep? Will she leave him for the dead to attack?

Freddie didn't want Lacy to stay up and protect him. HE was supposed to be protecting HER. He did feel sleepy. He had a long day. He tried to curl up on a cell seat, but it was cold and hard. He couldn't go to sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Lacy's long, red hair and gorgeous gray eyes. He fell asleep to the thought of her.

"Thanks, but we s-should get out of here. We've been in one place too long. They can smell us." Freddie said. He learned that the hard way. One day when he was sleeping on top of an abandoned bus, he heard loud moans. He peered over the side of the bus and there were dozens of zombies. He was lucky he survived that incident.

Freddie regretted bringing up the subject. Now he had to tell his story. He hated revisiting those terrible memories. His mother's face being torn apart, his father screaming in pain. He couldn't bare the pain of being the only survivor. He began to sob. "My parents were killed in front of me." was all Freddie said. He was afraid that if he said more, he would cry harder which would be even more embarrassing than he felt now.

"I'm 14,'' Freddie answered. He was hesitant to give her his age, but there wasn't much she could do. It was the apocalypse. Freddie kept his eyes locked on her red hair. It looked silky. He wanted to stroke it. ''W-what happened to you? Like, when t-the dead came back." Freddie asked.

"M-y name is Frederick. You can c-call me Freddie." Freddie replied. It had been three days since he filler his canteen with lake water. He had drunk it all that day. He gently took the canteen from Lacy's soft hands and took a long sip. The rush of water down his throat felt like heaven. After what felt like a lifetime, Freddie handed the canteen back to Lacy, not realizing that he had drunk the whole thing until she gave him a stern look. "S-sorry, I was thirsty." he said.

She was beautiful and deadly! Freddie couldn't take his eyes off of the girl. "W-what is your name?" Freddie asked, stuttering which made the mood even worst.

Freddie wanted to listen to her, but he didn't want her to risk her life either. He ultimately decided to stay put. He regretted his decision.

"Wait, I can help. And what are PEWS?" Freddie said. The day before the apocalypse, Freddie's father told him to always be a gentleman and treat women the way they deserve to be treated. Though he didn't know this girl, he wasn't going to let her risk her life. He cracked open a case of guns and pulled out a pistol. He examined the gun because 1.) he never used a pistol before and 2.) he had a life to save.

Freddie was taken back at how beautiful the woman she thought was a man was. He had never seen someone with grey eyes but they were beautiful. After studying the girls features, he finally came back to reality. "I was b-being chased by a g-group of runners. This was the first place I saw," Freddie explained. His stuttering problem was seriously getting annoying. "I didn't mean to intrude. I'll leave if that's what you want.'' Freddie said, picking up his broomstick.