Zeeton Apocalypse

I walk past grimy buildings plastered with what seems to be carcasses of animals. My heart is pounding fiercely. I wonder why nobody has heard the beating of my heart because it sounds like the beating of a drum. I grip the parchment, my only hope of escape, tightly to my chest. The world has collapsed after the Zeeton apocalypse and the document is a proof of my resistance. People nowadays don't know how to differentiate between a Zeeton sympathizer and an honorable citizen. Maybe because there isn't much honor left.

Zeetons don't prefer this part of the area which is why I linger and investigate. I am still not at ease and i nervously shoot glances towards the dark alley behind me. We anti-zeetons tend to hastily walk towards our destination and don't wander. It's a survival code and we adhere to it. My newly laundered linen shirt is covered in sweat and clings to my back. I remove it and wave it a bit so as to dry it. It has been really difficult to shop for clothes after the apocalypse. We wear what we get. Sometimes I get lucky and find clothes from the ruins of a boutique. There is inexplicable joy in finding expensive looking things for free and these little moments of happiness are all that we can enjoy now. 

I trip over a crumpled empty can and almost topple over but a hand stops my fall. A tall figure wearing a mask has his hands around my waist and I try to resist. I cannot surrender I think to myself determinedly. I viciously bite the persons arm and make a run for it. The stranger grabs me in one long stride and I huff angrily. Suddenly the person takes off the mask and I find myself staring at the beautifully chiseled face of a teenage boy. He's older than me and his auburn hair falls over his steely grey eyes. He is a Zeeton I realize with a jolt.