Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Ella at The End Of The World – Episode Thirty

Read more of Ella at The End Of The World

I managed to get a few hours of sleep, but I feel rough. On the bright side, I’ve had a biscuit, so it’s not all bad.

Mary says she has some friends a few days drive away that might have somewhere safe, so we’re setting off in a few hours, once we all feel a bit more human. Apparently, it’s a pen pal, that she met online, so I have to be honest, I’m a little concerned, but, at this point, beggers can’t be choosers, and if these friends can help, we aren’t really in a position to turn them down. We have supplies, tents and transports, but I’m not sure that we have the will to keep driving around, for however long this takes (potentially forever), so we need to find somewhere to settle, and Mary’s mystery friends are the best option we have right now.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Ella at The End Of The World – Episode Twenty Eight

Read more of Ella at The End Of The World

We’ve been driving all day, but now we’ve stopped for the night. I’m staying up for the first watch with Thomas, while the others sleep, then Martin and Mary are taking over. We’re letting Jude sleep through, he probably needs it.

Thomas was silent for ages. He’s barely spoken since we lost Little Mary, but then, just how, he broke down. I just hugged him for a little, letting him cry. Everyone is so raw, and it’s my fault.

He thanked me. I was speechless, but he said he was grateful she didn’t have to stay as one of them for long. I suppose it makes sense but it’s hard to accept that anyone should thank me for her being gone.

I miss you, Little Mary, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry that everyone blames themselves and nobody blames me.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Ella at The End Of The World – Episode Twenty Seven

Read more of Ella at The End Of The World

After last night, it’s pretty obvious that we aren’t as safe here as we thought. Martin thinks we would better off if we kept moving, but Mary (it feels so weird that there is only one now…) thinks it would be best to try and get to one of the less populated regions, and wait it out. We have three cars between us, and enough supplies to last for a while, so packing up and finding somewhere with less people (and therefore less infected) seems sensible to me, but Martin doesn’t agree, so is in a strop with everyone.



I’m being harsh on him. I know that. He just lost his sister, and he blames himself, but this isn’t just about him anymore, or how he feels, this is about survival.



He’s barely slept. I just held him, as he cried, for hours. Little Mary’s blood still soaked into his shirt, as he just cried. I guess we’re even now.



How fucked up is that? In trying to protect each other, we have to hurt each other. An eye for an eye, a sibling for a sibling. He begged me, as she stumbled towards me, turning into one of them, he begged me not to do it, but we both knew I didn’t have a choice. I wanted a choice, so badly, and now, I think I understand what happened back at Mum’s. I saw her, and I knew she’d never be the same, and more importantly, I knew that I had to keep him safe, that he wouldn’t be able to think straight, when it came to his blood, and that I had to make the hard choice for him, just like he did for me.



I finally understand why he had to break my heart, but I had to break his heart to get there.



He won’t even blame me. I think I want him too, just so I can stop feeling so bad. Watching him tear himself apart, while I’m doing the same internally is too much. He keeps mentioning the fences. He says over and over again that I told him about the fences, and how awful he feels that he didn’t listen to me. It wasn’t his fault. Maybe it was, but maybe it was mine too? I don’t know anymore. I just can’t stand seeing him like this.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Ella at The End Of The World – Episode Twenty Six

Read more of Ella at The End Of The World

I didn’t want to, but I had no choice.


Me and Little Mary were in the back garden, while Martin held things down in the front. It was an exciting night, because Little Mary and I had been saving our tobacco rations, and I still had a big supply of caramel digestives, so we decided to have a little break by the river, because it had been quiet.


The bunker has a pretty small back garden, but it leads out onto a river, that goes all the way through the village. We’ve put up fences around the banks, and into the back garden, but we left the river alone. That was our fatal mistake.


We didn’t think they could swim. They never can, in books and films, and well, they can’t now, but they could walk. We didn’t know. I’m typing this now and I feel so stupid, so fucking stupid, because why didn’t we think to close off the river somehow? We never went in there, because it was pretty choppy most of the time, so we didn’t want to get hurt, or caught up in it, and carried off to God knows where.


We were having a cigarette break, when we heard that familiar growl, low somewhere in the distance, so we checked the fences, and found nothing. Again, stupid, because we just assumed they were further away, and got on with our break. Then we heard it again, but closer, so, again, stupidly, we checked the fences, and again, there was nothing there.


It was in the river. it had begun crawling out, but it was so dark that we couldn’t see it. The river was loud, as always, and now that I think about it, being caught off guard, in a place with a noisy river was probably stupid. Everything about this was so stupid.


It grabbed Little Mary. Right around her ankle. She started kicking at it, and managed to shake it off, but it was followed. There were more of them, crawling onto the banks, some of them just standing, tall and terrifying, walking out of the river, like that bloke from the bible. We got as many as we could.


They got her.


We didn’t even notice at first, we were just sat on the floor, full of adrenaline eating biscuits and chatting for ages, until I spotted the blood, seeping through her jeans, from her ankle. I knew what Martin had said I should so (one shot straight to the head, no questions) but I thought he might think differently about his sister, so, I asked. I felt so stupid, so scared, leaving her on the floor, in tears, while I went to the front garden. I could barely speak. He kissed me, and asked what I needed him for, and I couldn’t speak, I just took his hand and pulled him back into the back garden with me.


He ran to her, and he was shouting, but I couldn’t get all the words straight in my head. There was so much crying. Her, me, him. So much noise. Then growling. I thought it was more of them, but it was her. She’d started to turn, or she had turned. I don’t know, it was so quick. Little Mary. My friend. My sister. She was coming at him. They’d taken her. She was gone. I had no other choice.


One shot. Straight to the head. No questions.


I think he understands. I hope he understands. Either way, I’ve never understood him more.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Ella at The End Of The World – Episode Twenty Five

Read more of Ella at The End Of The World

Little Mary just woke me up, and she’d snuck some of my caramel digestives out of the cupboard (Martin made me share). She put them on a little tray with a pot of tea, and we just sat having a chat, and feeling like normal people for a bit.

She really is the best sister in law ever, and she’s well worth putting up with her brother’s weird behaviour for.

He’s in a mood with me because I reminded him that we still need to refortify the outside fence, and he felt like I was having a go at him. I can’t win with that man. One minute, I’m not taking it seriously, and putting us all in danger, the next, I’m taking it too seriously, and nagging him. He did apologise for snapping at me over it, but I’m not sharing my biscuits with him tonight. They are for girls only.