I was with many adults and friends,
I was with many adults and friends, I was attacked suddenly and got but by a zombie. The man in the car I was in wanted to kill me. I begged him not to, I wanted to say my goodbyes. I went home wrote letters to everyone I could. I told my adopted sister only that I was bit and probably going to die. I looked down at my hand while talking to her. The bite was a little red. Not really bad. I wrote all the letters I could. I decided to do a drawing, my final drawing. I drew my fursona. Never finished it because I woke up. What does is mean?