Post by Joshua King on May 6, 2013 6:41:57 GMT
"So, just who do you think you are? What's your name kid?"
"Joshua Judd King. You can call me Josh or J.J. I know...my name is a bit on the country side but my mom was raised out in the boonies and I was raised with my Uncle and Aunt on their land. Guess it suits me in the end.
"That's as good a name as any. How old are you?
"Twenty eight. I feel like I'm getting old too fast."
"What would be your role in our... current society?
"Somewhere between scavenger and fighter. I um...see I'm fast despite my size. I'm 6'7. 230 pounds. I've always been really quiet on my feet, and I know how to get in and out of places quickly but I also know how to use guns and fight. Used to hunt and box when I was a kid. The only problem with fighting is..see I'm deaf. I can't hear anyone coming up on me so it's a weakness. I'll be needing people to watch my back incase I can't hear something coming. Much as I hate to say it... I'm a liability.
"You're a weird looking man. You remind me a lot of Jared Padalecki.
How would you describe yourself? You a rebel? Or maybe you're more about niceties?
"I'm not sure how to describe myself...I mean, I'm really nothing special. I guess... I've always been shy, an introvert. When I was younger I was a lot worse, guess because I was ashamed of being deaf. Not so much anymore. I've learned to accept it but it made me really afraid to get to know people. I never had a lot of friends. I hardly ever approached people unless they were deaf too or knew sign language. I learned to speak young, but I don't like my voice. Doesn't really sound nice like other people's, so I carry around a notepad and pen to communicate since I know not everyone knows sign language.
Around new people I can be really awkward, not sure what to write or say. I don't really trust people easily either because of some things in my past. Once I get to know someone though, I'm more open. Carefree. Really affectionate if they let me. I'm a loyal friend too. once you have me as your friend, I'm not going anywhere. I'm compassionate too..I really try to understand people and their plights. I'll give the clothes off my back if it'll help a person.
I'm polite. Manners have been ingrained in me for as long as I can remember.
I've always been determined about things though, when I want to get something done and I put my mind to it? It gets done. I'm a pretty passionate guy too especially about things I love, like carpentry and different types of art. I really enjoy working with my hands.
And I've never liked confrontation. I'll kill the undead, no problem, even though I pity them for the people they once were but someone who is aggressive or drama seeking. I usually try to avoid. If someone wants to pick a bone with me? I won't even try to communicate. Guess I've always been on the sensitive side...my feelings are easily hurt and I can hold a grudge for a long time. But I'm not quick to anger either. I'm pretty moody too, especially these days. Not having frequent showers and moving around so much gets to a person.
Around new people I can be really awkward, not sure what to write or say. I don't really trust people easily either because of some things in my past. Once I get to know someone though, I'm more open. Carefree. Really affectionate if they let me. I'm a loyal friend too. once you have me as your friend, I'm not going anywhere. I'm compassionate too..I really try to understand people and their plights. I'll give the clothes off my back if it'll help a person.
I'm polite. Manners have been ingrained in me for as long as I can remember.
I've always been determined about things though, when I want to get something done and I put my mind to it? It gets done. I'm a pretty passionate guy too especially about things I love, like carpentry and different types of art. I really enjoy working with my hands.
And I've never liked confrontation. I'll kill the undead, no problem, even though I pity them for the people they once were but someone who is aggressive or drama seeking. I usually try to avoid. If someone wants to pick a bone with me? I won't even try to communicate. Guess I've always been on the sensitive side...my feelings are easily hurt and I can hold a grudge for a long time. But I'm not quick to anger either. I'm pretty moody too, especially these days. Not having frequent showers and moving around so much gets to a person.
"What kind of weapon do you like to use? That's important information."
"The colt I had registered before the outbreak. I also use whatever I can get my hands on whether it be a crowbar or baseball bat."
"Are you with a clan, kid?"
"No, I'm kinda on my own. Haven't come across many survivors yet that stuck around for long. I should find someone soon because I won't last long out there without a trustworthy companion, ma'am."
"Now, I know it's not much relevance now-a-days, but I like to know a little about people before I cut 'em loose. Who did you lose in all this? And how did you get where you are today?"
"You seriously want to know about me? Like I said before...my history or who I am? Nothing great. And I'm private...never know... well okay. Doesn't matter anymore...does it? My mom says I was born on a rainy day. It was summer. July 02. She went through eighteen hours of labor but I was loved. She never regretted me. And I wasn't born deaf. I got an ear infection when I was nine months old, it left me deaf in my left ear that stopped hearing and then at eighteen months in my right that went mostly deaf. So I really can't hear at all without a hearing aid, and well...I can't find batteries for them. So I'm royally ...well messed. Never liked cussing much unless I'm desperate. uh, yeah, anyway.
My dad left when I was six years old. My mom and him always fought and argued, they never really got along but he s stuck around long enough to give me my younger brother Joe. Anyway, mom was left to take care of us and she started drinking heavily. She was never mean and never raised a hand to us, a good mom. She had to work a lot though and would leave me and my brother in the care of my Uncle Jeff and Aunt Sharon. I was always happy back then, we learned to hunt and fish. Did all the things kids should experience. They were good to us. My Uncle even learned sign language for me. I really couldn't love the man more at this point.
Uncle Jeff was also a carpenter. I loved what he did and really grew to love it myself. I would spend hours in his worshop creating whatever came to mind and when I realized I was talented at it. I knew what I wanted to do with my life.
There were times when I wasn't as happy. There were kids at school who picked on me for being so small and because I was deaf. I never fought back because I knew I couldn't take them. Then my Uncle took me to a boxing center, and taught me how to fight. I got really good and then showed my aggressors why they shouldn't pick on me anymore. Everything got better after that. People didn't pick on me so much anymore.
When I was seventeen I met the first girl I would love. I was staying on my grandfather's farm over the summer. You know, milking cows, herding sheep, fixing fences, riding horses. Anyway, the girl I met was Emily. She lived on a farm a couple miles away and ran errands for her father to my Pap's house. At first I ignored her but she was persistent. My grandfather told her I was deaf and she would carry around notepads and constantly asked me questions. After I realized she wasn't...making fun of me, I started answering her questions. Then I fell for her kindness and bright smile. After awhile, I didn't even mind using my speaking voice with her. She never took any jabs at it and acted like it was the best sound she ever heard.
When the summer was over, I was really sad I wouldn't see her again, so I asked my mom if I could stay with Pap for the school year. She said yes and we were both so happy that we ...well, we had sex for the first time out in the barn. It wasn't the best sex I ever had, but it meant something to the both of us. But it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. I eventually I found out she was controlling, obsessive and manipulative. I made new friends at my new school, some of those friends were girls. She hated me being around other females, so she would yell at me and use her love and my love for her against me to agree. I'd be so angry at her, because I hate yelling. I never know what someone is saying, and they could be saying anything. So I can't fight back. So we didn't last long, two months into the school year we broke up.
Then I went off to college. I became well to put it politely...a manwhore. I slept with a lot of girls because I wasn't looking for anything serious. After Emily...I just couldn't trust again. Girls always asked me out but most of them were disappointed when they learned I was deaf. So it really didn't bother me and our agreements for one night stands always went well. I was satisfied. Then I met...Jon. I wasn't really attracted to him at first. I had never looked at other guys. He ran a club for deaf kids, his sister Linda was deaf.
Anyway... he wanted me. He was persistent, and wanted us to go out on a date. Me being gay? Never really crossed my mind but then I gave in and we went out. It was pleasant. We talked a lot and really got to know each other. Then he kissed me and I thought I'd be repulsed or disgusted but I really enjoyed it. He was the second person I fell in love with. It was gradual, you know? I just came to love him and feel attracted to him. I was still a little wary at certain milestones in our relationship but he was patient and we stayed together for two years. It was the best relationship I had. Then he graduated and moved back to Maine. We sent e-mails and letters back and forth for awhile. I even considered moving over there to be with him but it wasn't what I wanted.
I had a job offer in Arkansas two years later, but my mom lost her job and I had to move back in with her to take care of her and my brother. I tried getting her to go to AA meetings but eventually I gave up. Started drinking with her. She was never a mean drunk, just really loving and a little in your personal space, but I didn't mind. We would talk about everything under the sun. She had always been a deep person and I was never afraid to speak with her. Then Joe went to college and it was just us.
Then something happened. Something you never imagine happening in your life. It can't happen to you, right? We go through life without thinking of what can come. A man named Leslie Gilbert had been watching my mom for months. He was a serial killer. In the middle of the night, he got the drop on us. I was always on the skinny side, and never had much upper body strength, so he managed to beat me up enough to where I was out of it. He had us tied up in the living room, and was speaking but I couldn't hear him but I could see in the fear on my mom's face. He then stabbed her and I found strength to break free and stab him back. But the bastard didn't die. He survived. We called the cops, had him arrested. He was wanted for other murders. He usually killed his female vicims and had sex with the corpses. If there were males in the house, he made them watch. We got lucky.
After that we stayed in the hospital for a couple weeks. I had a couple broken ribs and my mom got an infection from the knife wound but we made it. I decided to start weight lifting and working out. I really didn't want to be helpless like that again. I didn't want someone to be able to hurt my loved ones.
Then the apocalypse happened. It was just a normal day. Like any other day. Everything was quiet and I was working. Around three in the afternoon my boss pulled me from the workshop and there was a frenzy all over the news about a virus reanimating the dead. That attacks had been made and they didn't know where it was coming from. I rushed home to my mom, she was scared and I was worried. My brother was away at college in the place it had started. We got a hold of my brother and he was okay for the time being. We holed up in our house as the virus spread quickly from one state to another. Fuck...I mean, I'm sorry. I don't mean to cuss but I remember how scared we were. How much we feared for our safety and everyone else that we loved.
Jon had always watched horror movies when I was with him and I knew a bit about zombie lore. Bullet to the brain right? I had a registered gun. The gun I keep with me now. So we were safe, safe as we could be. I'd do anything to protect my family no matter what the cost. Though eventually, supplies in the house started running low and we had to do something before we starved to death. My mom was sobering up, she hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in fear of being inhibited to the point of death. Our neighborhood didn't have a whole lot of the undead so we figured we'd be alright. We loaded up my SUV and went to a walmart. From there we loaded up all we could. I only had to kill a few zombies but It was so... so freaking...it was sad and little scary. That's the only thing I could describe it as.
We ended up heading back to our neighborhood when we noticed it was overrun by the undead. So we decided to go be with Joe. It was a long way away in California. Along the way we met a group of survivors who lived out in the woods. We traded supplies and they gave us information. We learned the infection was spread through bites and even a drop of blood in your bloodstream. They had lost a couple of their people that way. I had been... in sort of a dreamlike state. Like I couldn't really believe this was all happening but the campsite was peaceful. It felt like what was happening, wasn't really happening. I fished for a few days, helped out where I could then we were attacked by 'them.' I tried helping everyone but... I just took my mom and ran. We barely escaped with our lives intact.
Then we ended up breaking down on a lonely backroad. I only know a little about cars... enough to fix something we duct tape. Because that's what I did in the end but I couldn't find the problem at first. We slept in the car and a few hours later I was back up trying to find a solution. A hose was broken, so I got some duct tape and fixed it. As I looked up my mom was gesturing wildly and I looked behind me to see there was a horde coming our way. I got in the car but it wouldn't start. They were ... they were there so fast. Faster than I thought they could be. One broke through my mom's window and ...god, just god. Where the hell was God in all this? Just why was this happening? I...my mom she was bitten clean through her arm. I managed to take a machette that was given to me and cut the damn thing's head off. She was bleeding everywhere but I had to stay calm. So I started the car finally, and we drove off.
We had to stop after a few hours. She was sweating, shaking, blood just kept pouring the hell out and I was starting to panic. I knew...I knew in my heart she wasn't going to make it. We found a deserted hotel and stopped. I grabbed towels from the help desk and we went into an empty room. She had a fever, scrotching hot...so I put her in an a ice cold bath. I couldn't do anything. Nothing to stop it, we knew what was coming and we cried. God we cried. Sobbed, pleaded with Jehovah to help but he wasn't answering. Then we gave up and talked, really talked. We said our goodbyes and agreed that I'd put a bullet in her before she turned. Neither one of us didn't want her to become one of them. She was vomiting blood and in more pain than I could even begin to imagine.
She went to sleep... passed out. I knew when she woke up, she wouldn't be he same. It was so hard, so hard pulling the trigger but I did it. I knew she felt nothing and that was all I could really ask for. So...I covered her with blankets and left the motel in search of my brother but I got stuck here. Too many roadblocks and zombies around. My battery wore out and I don't know where to find one. I've been laying low and trying to stay in the car as much as possible. I can't hear anything and I'm pretty much a sitting duck this way. I can only pray God hears me at some point. Give me anything. Anything at all. I'm grieving, I'm tired and I'm so sick of this apocalypse but I can't...I can't even for a moment pity myself. I need to survive because I'm not a coward and I'm not taking myself out. The worlds gotta get better right? Right?
Fuck I hope so. Fuck sorry. Just...yeah. Yeah.... that's it. That's me. That's all I have.
Josh... signing off.
My dad left when I was six years old. My mom and him always fought and argued, they never really got along but he s stuck around long enough to give me my younger brother Joe. Anyway, mom was left to take care of us and she started drinking heavily. She was never mean and never raised a hand to us, a good mom. She had to work a lot though and would leave me and my brother in the care of my Uncle Jeff and Aunt Sharon. I was always happy back then, we learned to hunt and fish. Did all the things kids should experience. They were good to us. My Uncle even learned sign language for me. I really couldn't love the man more at this point.
Uncle Jeff was also a carpenter. I loved what he did and really grew to love it myself. I would spend hours in his worshop creating whatever came to mind and when I realized I was talented at it. I knew what I wanted to do with my life.
There were times when I wasn't as happy. There were kids at school who picked on me for being so small and because I was deaf. I never fought back because I knew I couldn't take them. Then my Uncle took me to a boxing center, and taught me how to fight. I got really good and then showed my aggressors why they shouldn't pick on me anymore. Everything got better after that. People didn't pick on me so much anymore.
When I was seventeen I met the first girl I would love. I was staying on my grandfather's farm over the summer. You know, milking cows, herding sheep, fixing fences, riding horses. Anyway, the girl I met was Emily. She lived on a farm a couple miles away and ran errands for her father to my Pap's house. At first I ignored her but she was persistent. My grandfather told her I was deaf and she would carry around notepads and constantly asked me questions. After I realized she wasn't...making fun of me, I started answering her questions. Then I fell for her kindness and bright smile. After awhile, I didn't even mind using my speaking voice with her. She never took any jabs at it and acted like it was the best sound she ever heard.
When the summer was over, I was really sad I wouldn't see her again, so I asked my mom if I could stay with Pap for the school year. She said yes and we were both so happy that we ...well, we had sex for the first time out in the barn. It wasn't the best sex I ever had, but it meant something to the both of us. But it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. I eventually I found out she was controlling, obsessive and manipulative. I made new friends at my new school, some of those friends were girls. She hated me being around other females, so she would yell at me and use her love and my love for her against me to agree. I'd be so angry at her, because I hate yelling. I never know what someone is saying, and they could be saying anything. So I can't fight back. So we didn't last long, two months into the school year we broke up.
Then I went off to college. I became well to put it politely...a manwhore. I slept with a lot of girls because I wasn't looking for anything serious. After Emily...I just couldn't trust again. Girls always asked me out but most of them were disappointed when they learned I was deaf. So it really didn't bother me and our agreements for one night stands always went well. I was satisfied. Then I met...Jon. I wasn't really attracted to him at first. I had never looked at other guys. He ran a club for deaf kids, his sister Linda was deaf.
Anyway... he wanted me. He was persistent, and wanted us to go out on a date. Me being gay? Never really crossed my mind but then I gave in and we went out. It was pleasant. We talked a lot and really got to know each other. Then he kissed me and I thought I'd be repulsed or disgusted but I really enjoyed it. He was the second person I fell in love with. It was gradual, you know? I just came to love him and feel attracted to him. I was still a little wary at certain milestones in our relationship but he was patient and we stayed together for two years. It was the best relationship I had. Then he graduated and moved back to Maine. We sent e-mails and letters back and forth for awhile. I even considered moving over there to be with him but it wasn't what I wanted.
I had a job offer in Arkansas two years later, but my mom lost her job and I had to move back in with her to take care of her and my brother. I tried getting her to go to AA meetings but eventually I gave up. Started drinking with her. She was never a mean drunk, just really loving and a little in your personal space, but I didn't mind. We would talk about everything under the sun. She had always been a deep person and I was never afraid to speak with her. Then Joe went to college and it was just us.
Then something happened. Something you never imagine happening in your life. It can't happen to you, right? We go through life without thinking of what can come. A man named Leslie Gilbert had been watching my mom for months. He was a serial killer. In the middle of the night, he got the drop on us. I was always on the skinny side, and never had much upper body strength, so he managed to beat me up enough to where I was out of it. He had us tied up in the living room, and was speaking but I couldn't hear him but I could see in the fear on my mom's face. He then stabbed her and I found strength to break free and stab him back. But the bastard didn't die. He survived. We called the cops, had him arrested. He was wanted for other murders. He usually killed his female vicims and had sex with the corpses. If there were males in the house, he made them watch. We got lucky.
After that we stayed in the hospital for a couple weeks. I had a couple broken ribs and my mom got an infection from the knife wound but we made it. I decided to start weight lifting and working out. I really didn't want to be helpless like that again. I didn't want someone to be able to hurt my loved ones.
Then the apocalypse happened. It was just a normal day. Like any other day. Everything was quiet and I was working. Around three in the afternoon my boss pulled me from the workshop and there was a frenzy all over the news about a virus reanimating the dead. That attacks had been made and they didn't know where it was coming from. I rushed home to my mom, she was scared and I was worried. My brother was away at college in the place it had started. We got a hold of my brother and he was okay for the time being. We holed up in our house as the virus spread quickly from one state to another. Fuck...I mean, I'm sorry. I don't mean to cuss but I remember how scared we were. How much we feared for our safety and everyone else that we loved.
Jon had always watched horror movies when I was with him and I knew a bit about zombie lore. Bullet to the brain right? I had a registered gun. The gun I keep with me now. So we were safe, safe as we could be. I'd do anything to protect my family no matter what the cost. Though eventually, supplies in the house started running low and we had to do something before we starved to death. My mom was sobering up, she hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in fear of being inhibited to the point of death. Our neighborhood didn't have a whole lot of the undead so we figured we'd be alright. We loaded up my SUV and went to a walmart. From there we loaded up all we could. I only had to kill a few zombies but It was so... so freaking...it was sad and little scary. That's the only thing I could describe it as.
We ended up heading back to our neighborhood when we noticed it was overrun by the undead. So we decided to go be with Joe. It was a long way away in California. Along the way we met a group of survivors who lived out in the woods. We traded supplies and they gave us information. We learned the infection was spread through bites and even a drop of blood in your bloodstream. They had lost a couple of their people that way. I had been... in sort of a dreamlike state. Like I couldn't really believe this was all happening but the campsite was peaceful. It felt like what was happening, wasn't really happening. I fished for a few days, helped out where I could then we were attacked by 'them.' I tried helping everyone but... I just took my mom and ran. We barely escaped with our lives intact.
Then we ended up breaking down on a lonely backroad. I only know a little about cars... enough to fix something we duct tape. Because that's what I did in the end but I couldn't find the problem at first. We slept in the car and a few hours later I was back up trying to find a solution. A hose was broken, so I got some duct tape and fixed it. As I looked up my mom was gesturing wildly and I looked behind me to see there was a horde coming our way. I got in the car but it wouldn't start. They were ... they were there so fast. Faster than I thought they could be. One broke through my mom's window and ...god, just god. Where the hell was God in all this? Just why was this happening? I...my mom she was bitten clean through her arm. I managed to take a machette that was given to me and cut the damn thing's head off. She was bleeding everywhere but I had to stay calm. So I started the car finally, and we drove off.
We had to stop after a few hours. She was sweating, shaking, blood just kept pouring the hell out and I was starting to panic. I knew...I knew in my heart she wasn't going to make it. We found a deserted hotel and stopped. I grabbed towels from the help desk and we went into an empty room. She had a fever, scrotching hot...so I put her in an a ice cold bath. I couldn't do anything. Nothing to stop it, we knew what was coming and we cried. God we cried. Sobbed, pleaded with Jehovah to help but he wasn't answering. Then we gave up and talked, really talked. We said our goodbyes and agreed that I'd put a bullet in her before she turned. Neither one of us didn't want her to become one of them. She was vomiting blood and in more pain than I could even begin to imagine.
She went to sleep... passed out. I knew when she woke up, she wouldn't be he same. It was so hard, so hard pulling the trigger but I did it. I knew she felt nothing and that was all I could really ask for. So...I covered her with blankets and left the motel in search of my brother but I got stuck here. Too many roadblocks and zombies around. My battery wore out and I don't know where to find one. I've been laying low and trying to stay in the car as much as possible. I can't hear anything and I'm pretty much a sitting duck this way. I can only pray God hears me at some point. Give me anything. Anything at all. I'm grieving, I'm tired and I'm so sick of this apocalypse but I can't...I can't even for a moment pity myself. I need to survive because I'm not a coward and I'm not taking myself out. The worlds gotta get better right? Right?
Fuck I hope so. Fuck sorry. Just...yeah. Yeah.... that's it. That's me. That's all I have.
Josh... signing off.
