My name is Marlon, Marlon Jones, let me tell you a little about me. I was orphaned from the civil war when I was just a baby I never knew my parents or their fate. I grew up in an orphanage, it was a miserable place filled with kids who lost their parents and their childhood. The orphanage only filled up more, no one wanted kids during the time. I just grew old their seeing kid leave once they turned eighteen. I was seventeen when the outbreak started, it was chaos people were leaving in droves trying to escape what they feared. Most of the caretakers left the orphanage to go to their families, I don’t blame them for leaving us. Some adults stayed, they just couldn’t live with themselves if they just up and left us. They tried their best to keep us safe, but there were too many of us and too few of them. When the infected started tearing through they gave their lives so we could get away. I seen them get ripped to pieces there was so much blood and guts its images was scared into my brain. I found out early that them things didn’t have no sympathy. Most of the kids never stood a chance even with the adults sacrifice, we all tried to run but many were grabbed up like a late night snack. I just kept running not looking back, I heard the blood curdling screams of the kids behind me. I still hear their screams in my dreams, it will never stop haunting me, I could've done something at least tried but I ran like a coward and now I have to live with that. I now wonder the wasteland seeking a better purpose, trusting not a soul and doing whatever I can to survive.