One Word: Perfect - As I made you to be

Warning: violence and implied gore.

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Someone who could survive. That was what everyone was looking for, even myself. People called it the perfect trait to have in a time like this.

Grouping up wasn't an option. You never knew who you could trust amongst strangers.

When the world started to kill itself, society crumbled back into something feral.

The first hit were the grocers for food and water. Then people started looting each other. Neighbour's once happily chatting over fences were now strewn across the same boundaries as a warning.

Those with illness slowly suffered. There wasn't enough medicine to go around, or anyone skilled enough to administer ones that weren't oral.

It turned everything into shambles. Money littered the ground as it no longer had value. Cars were abandoned on roads choked with luggage of the fleeing or bodies of those wanting to defend it.

I ran when I could and left everyone behind, even my own family.

They were caught in the crowd of insanity. My sister chose to leave with a group who offered sanctuary on some island they said they had claimed.

I later heard that island had gone savage, and paranoia ran like a disease through thier community. I doubt she survived.

My mother and father, bless them, tried to find refuge in a new home, but were too kind-hearted. They were killed when they let a stranger into thier home who pretended to be seeking somewhere to sleep.

I escaped that mess through a bedroom window with my boyfriend and only a bag of clothes containing a single bottle of water between us.

I scavenged every place I could to get insulin for my boyfriend. With the chemists cleaned out and everyone hoarding thier own supply, I turned to checking homes for the rarity.

Unfortunately, luck only took me so far. I couldn't keep the supply up and he slowly died from ketonasitosis. His body literally ate him away from the inside out.

I learnt you had to look after yourself first and others last if you wanted to survive.

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Two years had me struggling with a baby I didn't know I had until I was showing and it was too late. Keeping it quiet was the hardest part. The cries were like a siren for anyone nearby. They forced me to trek further out of civilisation and into an abandoned city overrun with wild dogs, savage communities, and animals retaking the concrete jungle.

I had taken an underground car park as my safe house away from the mess of the world. It was dark and quiet; perfect to stay clear and keep my head down with a toddler in tow.

I didn't sleep in the cars still parked down here. Instead, I had a little cave of my own in a hole in the wall of the car ramp leading to the roof.

I could cover it easily with the milk crates I covered in cardboard boxes. When scavengers came to search the already looted cars, they would walk straight past me. Nobody checked the crates or where I was nestled inside around my little girl behind more cardboard, knife at the ready.

My toddler was learning quickly that this wasn't a world she could be allowed to roam freely in. She did as she was told, rarely strayed from our hole, and didn't beg for food. She was perfect; as I made her.

I made sure to keep her fed with fresh meat from animals roaming the quietness, or from wild vegetables growing outside the planted civilisations claiming thier own warped sense of security.

I called my little one Gailie. My boyfriend liked the name Gail, and I liked Hailey. Combining them seemed like a nice tribute to his soul lost to something so preventable.

She had a mess of wild ginger hair, just like her father; and his brown eyes too. She took my fair skin; freckles and all.

In a way, it was a curse. She stood out so brightly with looks so beautiful. I learnt to tie her curly hair into twin-tails to keep the usual fluffiness from attracting attention. Her pale skin was covered with an old cardigan I had ripped from the masses of clothing left on the ground. It was far too big for her now, but she liked the way the long sleeves flapped over her hands.

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Today was the day we moved out of our little hole and into something better.

Gailie wasn't a baby anymore. I was barely squeezing into our home now, let alone leaving room to drag in my fresh kill or harvested vegetables.

I wanted something larger, but not too spacious. More room led to more area I had to keep safe from those roaming looters sent out of thier gates to add to thier already bursting supplies.

An office room would be nice, on a high floor too. I would lean on people's overall laziness in hope that they only ravaged the lower floors and didn't bother with the tops in high rises.

Peering outside of our hole, I listened carefully.

I could hear the scuffling shoes of people a few metres away. They had to be at the other side of the car park and continuing further away. They weren't trying to be quiet; one of them hitting the metal bodies of the cars with a stick.

Maybe to scare away threats? The animals down here could be worse than the humans at times.

With Gailie latched onto my back beneath the blanket I smothered across her to keep her hidden, I nudged aside the cardboard; checked her legs were still securely gripped, and darted along the wall in the opposite direction for the exit.

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Breaking free with no commotions, I made sure Gailie kept her head pressed to my back quietly.

I could see her little face taking in what it could of the outside world from around the blanket she pulled down.

Her little fingers pointed to a feral dog digging through torn clothes on the other side of the street, grabbing for it happily.

It raised its head and focused on me silently snarling back to it as I kept moving onwards.

If I made warnings that they understood, they were less likely to try and attack me. The same didn't work for humans though.

I had taken feral tactics to survive that some wouldn't devolve themselves too.

If anyone so much as came near me, I'd gut them and eat thier meat to keep Gailie thriving.

I tucked Gailie's hand back into the blanket I pulled tighter as I eyed the high-rise looming over the others ahead.

Looked like a major building. For sure it would already be claimed under one of the many names of the looters around here working for thier little societies.

I'd have to divert; find one not so obvious.

Turning right, I weaved across the road and pressed my side to the back of a car. When I heard the sounds of other patrols were safely out of reach, I scurried along the wall of another building so I could reach the one I was locked onto.

It was just a random choice amongst the others towering beside it. This one had its front doors closed; a good sign no-one had completely drained it of resources.

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Heading for the higher floors was no easy task.

Someone had barricaded the staircase after the first flight that I had to squeeze Gailie through, just so I could have room to reach her.

After resecuring her, we were forced into a nearby unit when the sound of people approaching the barricade rang out.

Thier shoes slapped the polished floor that echoed so loudly. They stopped at the barrier, right outside the door I pressed my side into as I waited for them to leave.

When they did, I made my move to continue further upwards.

The whole ordeal took many hours of hiding in units, moving to rooms away from the searching people, and stabbing my way through those dumb enough to keep prodding away from thier group.

Finally, we reached the top floor and came to a decision.

The door on the left, or the one on the right?

This floor was far too spacious to be considered part of the crammed lower class levels I had left beneath me. The empty floor on the other side of the stairs was home to an elavator that was still functioning.

Gailie grabbed my attention back when her hand reached for the door on the left.

I bolted for it and rushed through.

Immediently, I spotted a group of people gathered around a table with a pile of bags between them.

There was a wall to my left that I ducked behind, sliding along to the door at the end I pulled open to back into.

My heart hammered when I realized I had cornered myself. This was a bathroom, and a very tiny one at that. It was just a toilet in here, not even a sink.

Fists hammered on the front door with loud calling.

The group left thier table to approach it, happily greeting the noise before disappearing themselves.

I could hear others through the wall behind me that had stayed behind.

Was this all part of one community?

I had really nestled myself here without taking in the obvious signs this high-rise couldn't possibly be made of multiple factions coexisting on different floors?

We couldn't stay here either.

I needed to find a quieter home.

Staying low, I turned the doorknob and crept outwards towards the front door.

I had my hand on the knob when I heard a yell and turned to see I had been spotted by someone on thier way to relieve themselves.

Tearing outside, I bolted down the stairs with people swarming out of the floor above.

I kept running, over the bodies laid on the stairs; down towards the barricade I knew blocked my path.

I ripped Gailie from me and forced her into the gap before scrambling onto it myself.

I saw bodies storm downwards and snatch for her legs I yanked out of thier swiping grip so I could press her to my front and barge out the door.

The hunting party was gathered here, still planning thier coarse of action.

I bolted around to my left and followed the pathway while I had both parties hot on my heels.

Yelling echoed off the walls of the buildings around me. I was far too exposed, but I couldn't slow down now.

I heard more shouting from above and peered upwards to see someone motioning out to me. They gestured to the door of thier high-rise where others waited, but I ignored them and kept running straight past reaching hands.

Both groups clashed, giving me precious time to weazel my way down an alley and out into another street. I kept left again, looping for another alley that forced me to lift Gailie out of it first so I could pull myself through. It had taken us back to the same street we had just diverged from.

The persuers hadn't all left to hunt for me down the first alley. More spotted us and charged, leaving the bodies of the kind strangers behind them.

I didn't have time to run again. My arms burned from carrying Gailie who unknowingly stood between me and the horde.

The perfect person is someone who can survive and put themselves first, no matter what.

So, I left Gailie there to save myself.

She kept quiet. She didn't run. She was perfect the whole time the horde descended upon her; just as I made her to be.

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