The portents are grim

I'm doomed. Doomed! I have reviewed the omens and that is the only conclusion I can reach. I am destined to fall. Become a zombie. Here are the omens.
Groceries. Yes, you may scoff, but I'm serious. Today mom came home with food I actually like! Something about that bodes ill. No veggie burgers? Sauerkraut? (these are what she usually gets). No. There were ravioli, bacon bits, and Nutella. Looking out the grocery bags one the counter, I feel chills running down my spine. My doom inches closer.
Omen two, The Storm. Whispers ran through the school today. "practice canceled", "twenty-eight inches", and "no school tomorrow" were among them. I have no idea what athlete would be crazy enough to play in this weather, but that isn't the point. Most teachers try to kill these rumors, as it will give us prisoners hope of escape.* But one teacher was open with us. The Brogley ** announced that the was the weather forecast of a big storm and twenty-eight inches of snow. In Utah that would just be a light fall, but here that's an emergency. We will be snowed for the rest of the week (i hope). But these strange weather activities cause me angst. What will become of me?
Lastly, In drama we are studying Shakespeare and each is assigned a sonnet to memorize. i have sonnet number 18. So I was reading this book called "The Forest of Hands and Teeth" and it's one of those books like unto "Pretties," "Among the Hidden,"and "Hunger Games". Like something happened that ended the world as we know it, and the story takes place as the few survivors struggle to rebuild humanity. Normally I don't go for these stories, if only because I have faith that humanity won't ever go that far. You may say I'm dreamer, but I have faith in mankind. In this story, a strange infection spread through the people, spread by bite. People were zombies! And so while hiding from the zombies, the main character stumbles on a pieces of our civilization. A book. Of Shakespeare's sonnets. She opens to sonnet number 18.

Shakespeare's love sonnet # 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all to short a date:

Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometimes declines,

By chance or natures's changing course untimm'd;

By thy eternal summer shall not fade

Nor loose possesion of that fair thou growest:

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

I am terrified. Now excuse me, I'm going to hide in my bed and finish reading the forest of hands and teeth. despite my impending doom.

Notes:

* the students have the advantage of number, teachers are afraid of an uprising

** the brogley is my goverment teacher

lastly, overactive imaginations, superstitious, and over dramatic personalities do not mix well.