Why Am I Walking?

Why am I walking? I can’t remember how long I’ve been walking for, but I can’t feel my feet anymore. The roads are quiet, only the noise of those around me fills the air. I don’t know who I’m with, I’ve never met them before in my life, but I’ve been walking with them for a while now.

I look down and see that my left leg is dragging behind me, it’s broken and my clothes are torn and covered in blood. Now my question is how am I walking? I want to stop, but my body won’t let me. I want to speak, but my words are gone. Everything is different now.

The people around me are all traveling towards the same goal and I suppose I am too. I wonder if they’re all questioning their reason like I am.

I open my mouth to ask the person next to me, but all that comes out is a low, drawn out groan. That’s not what I wanted to say.

The group turned when a loud bang echoed in the distance. Was that a gunshot? Shouldn’t we be running in the other direction?

We walked towards the source of the noise and saw people shooting other people. The group became loud with excitement and even I joined in. I could smell blood and I wanted to taste it. Disgusting.

I approached a person sitting on the ground, trying to get away from me, trying to shoot me with an empty gun. I tumbled on top of him, my legs giving way. I was desperate to get to him.

I guess I’ll eat him now.

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