When the zombie apocalypse struck, I warned my family to protect our supermarket and watch out for looters taking everything for free.
But my mother scoffed.
“What era are we living in? There aren’t any bad people anymore!”
“The more desperate things get, the more we need to stick together and help one another!”
To prove she was right, she tore down the security door I’d installed at the supermarket and threw away the fire axe I’d prepared for self-defense.
“Just you wait! No one’s going to come steal anything! And if anyone does, they’ll have to get through me first!”
But when the thugs showed up, she was the first to hide, leaving my father and me locked outside.
“Protect the supermarket! If they steal all our supplies, how are we supposed to survive?”
My father and I begged her to open the door, but she ignored us.
The thugs killed us on the spot.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back one week before the zombie apocalypse.
