[ WP ] A man is locked in his bedroom . His zombified wife and children struggle against the door to beat it down . A loaded pistol rests on the dresser next to him .

I had been sitting in the bathroom for about a half an hour when they noticed my sobbing. The gun is there. Jacklyn, and Liam, and Kelly are over there. My back is to the door. They are groaning and scrabbling, their voices distorted but still recognizable as my family. Each one bit and turned. I know what I should do. My emotional reaction.. it's not useful. I just need to hold them off until I can get over the chemicals. Fuck. How do soldiers do it? Think of them as the enemy. Shut yourself out. I can grieve later. They're not human. They were, and now they're not, and you have to kill them, or they'll kill you. Kelly's little fingers are poking through. Broken and bloodied, sticky with congealed blood. She does n't react. I slam the door against it harder.. Rage.. Focus on the rage. This thing is what killed my daughter. This disease.. these monsters. My wife, my son, my daughter. They're not them anymore... It's just the evil that killed them. Focus on their defects. How the blood pools in their eyes. How they shamble and moan. How their faces are dead, expressionless husks. They're disgusting. You do n't even have to kill them in a hard way. Point the gun and pull the trigger. nothing simpler. Rage. Disgust. Anger. Hatred. Vengeance. I have to live so that others may live. I can grieve later. I have to live. I have to kill. 
 
 I grabbed the pistol, cocked it and backed away from the door, aiming low. They came in. I fired three times, and left.
