Unlikely groups of us Greens as we began to call ourselves began to form as hunting parties. Jocks were working together with nerds, goths were working together with preps and the hipsters were insisting they loved brains before we all did. You never would have seen something like that had we all still been living.
Sure the comradery between us was great and all and for the first time in either my life or afterlife I felt as if I was finally good at something, but before long I found myself drifting from my so called friends. The constant group mentality of wanting to eat brains morning, noon and night became too much to deal with.
It started off pretty simple. When the hunting parties would make a catch I would hang out near the back of the pack, not really fighting for my share. Before long, I was staying back from hunts all together, sitting on a street corner trying to regain my drawing skills I had when I still had a heartbeat. To be honest, I missed my old life. I was me, not just another rotting face in the crowd. Most of my so called friends now don't remember a lick of what their former lives used to be. The only reminder any of them would have is the clothes they wore when they got bit. A couple of the guys are in business suits, most likely an executive of some sort. One guy in his firefighters overalls, pretty self explanatory. One lady in her morning robe with the words #1 Mom stitched into the chest, I wonder if her kids are okay.
I guess I can say these are the lucky ones. They don't remember what their former lives used to be, just shuffling along in blissful ignorance, looking for nothing but their next meal. Except for me. I remember what it used to be like to be happy, to be sad, to feel fear.
Here I am, just an empty shell of my former self with no one to even vaguely comprehend how I feel...