SLICE OF LIFE | SURVIVAL HORROR
I’m not sure why I’m writing this down.
I guess its that I just know that I need to write something to make sense of it. My therapist calls it written stress management. I’ve admittedly never really taken it seriously, so, I guess that would be the first benefit to everyone losing their fucking minds only a few months out from the end of the school year.
My name is Rosemary Fitzgerald. Everyone calls me Fitz. I’m a senior at Stockbridge Academy, a sort-of charter high school a few hours from Detroit. Not that any of that matters anymore.
Something happened. An outbreak of some kind, or at least that's what the teachers told everyone. They told us that we'd be safe in the auditorium until the situation was clear and our parents could evacuate us. Obviously, that was a lie and well, whatever sickness that was outside decided that it did not want to be outside anymore. All, I remember was sitting in the gym, holed up with the rest of my class and a few others, waiting this out until one of the other students, a freshman I think, caught whatever sickness was going around. Now, I’m not much of an expert of these things but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to get back up when a fourteen-year-old decides they liked the taste of your neck.
I never liked Mr. Roberts, but that should not happen to anybody.
In retrospect, sure, I’m shaking, but I’m starting to believe the idiot who started screaming “zombies” as the gymnasium turned into a game of life-or-death.
A group of us got out. We’re in one of the rooms designated as a teacher’s lounge. Not the largest one, but Stockbridge isn’t a small school. It’s just us, unless you count the “zombies” outside the door that want to do to us what they did to our gym teacher. Between the school being on lockdown, the reinforced glass windows, and us having absolutely no cell service or food, I’m on the verge of having a panic attack. But, yeah, I’ve gotta keep that shit on lock. I can’t show weakness in a time like this.
But how the heck am I or anybody supposed to escape this death trap?
I guess its that I just know that I need to write something to make sense of it. My therapist calls it written stress management. I’ve admittedly never really taken it seriously, so, I guess that would be the first benefit to everyone losing their fucking minds only a few months out from the end of the school year.
My name is Rosemary Fitzgerald. Everyone calls me Fitz. I’m a senior at Stockbridge Academy, a sort-of charter high school a few hours from Detroit. Not that any of that matters anymore.
Something happened. An outbreak of some kind, or at least that's what the teachers told everyone. They told us that we'd be safe in the auditorium until the situation was clear and our parents could evacuate us. Obviously, that was a lie and well, whatever sickness that was outside decided that it did not want to be outside anymore. All, I remember was sitting in the gym, holed up with the rest of my class and a few others, waiting this out until one of the other students, a freshman I think, caught whatever sickness was going around. Now, I’m not much of an expert of these things but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to get back up when a fourteen-year-old decides they liked the taste of your neck.
I never liked Mr. Roberts, but that should not happen to anybody.
In retrospect, sure, I’m shaking, but I’m starting to believe the idiot who started screaming “zombies” as the gymnasium turned into a game of life-or-death.
A group of us got out. We’re in one of the rooms designated as a teacher’s lounge. Not the largest one, but Stockbridge isn’t a small school. It’s just us, unless you count the “zombies” outside the door that want to do to us what they did to our gym teacher. Between the school being on lockdown, the reinforced glass windows, and us having absolutely no cell service or food, I’m on the verge of having a panic attack. But, yeah, I’ve gotta keep that shit on lock. I can’t show weakness in a time like this.
But how the heck am I or anybody supposed to escape this death trap?
This is an interest check for a survival horror RP that resembles a slice-of-life teen drama that is set in the fictional setting of Sunset Valley, Michigan.
I can field questions here while we build enough interest for a small-ish group roleplay that we can do in-between our other projects. Character Sheets will end up being quite simple and characters that are any class year and trope will be accepted per review.
As per group activity, I’m looking for us to be consistent and hold each other accountable. Every two weeks is a good per capita, though things will come up that keep some of us unavailable, so as long as we communicate we should be better going forward as long as we stay inspired and interested.
Anyway, with that out of the way—any takers or question-havers?
I can field questions here while we build enough interest for a small-ish group roleplay that we can do in-between our other projects. Character Sheets will end up being quite simple and characters that are any class year and trope will be accepted per review.
As per group activity, I’m looking for us to be consistent and hold each other accountable. Every two weeks is a good per capita, though things will come up that keep some of us unavailable, so as long as we communicate we should be better going forward as long as we stay inspired and interested.
Anyway, with that out of the way—any takers or question-havers?