Short Story

     That night that Pedro left was terrible. That morning we all woke up and he was there. That day we were getting ready to move on to the next town so we could see if there were any more survivors. Ever since the war we have been moving from town to town trying to find people that hadn’t been taken or killed. We packed up whatever we had left and were moving to the edge of the small town we were staying in. Pedro seemed to be acting pretty normal, but every once and a while there was a small difference in the way he acted. He would get angry over the smallest things, and he got really violent sometimes. I thought it was just because of the war but looking back on it he really only started acting like this after we left this town about seventy miles away.

     That night we grabbed our things and started walking. We only walked for thirty minutes when Pedro asked to take a break. We said sure and took a break. Pedro went to go check out the surroundings really quick. He came back silently and we didn’t know until he attacked us. With rocks in his hands he hit us over the head and we were out cold. We woke up the next day with only a little of our stuff still there. We were all tied together around a tree. That was the last time we have seen Pedro in months, but when were in certain towns we hear about someone who’s description fits Pedro’s. One day we may find him and if we do he better be ready to explain himself.