This is a product of me in my boredom state...

In a tight-spaced room lies a human figure cast in shadow, cold, dark, alone and empty.
Day after day, humans look upon the creature in humor or terror, mocking or screaming in 'its' face.
Night after night, it stays awake, hoping for the day it finally dies, counting down the days to its fate.
As another day closes, it looks about the last of the disgusting humans. Night swallows the day, catapulting the sun past the horizon.
It thinks of what it's gone through, then decides its time had come. It gets up from its cold position, moves to the door keeping it captive, then breaks it down.
It moves slowly out to a hall way, hoping nothing comes to take it away and lock it up for good.
With inhuman speed, it thrusts itself down the hallway and into another room. As it slams the door behind it, it looks around the quiet desilent room. It moves about the room looking for anything to help it with its task. It stopped at the desk that was resting beside a white bed.
On the desk was a needle and a stack of papers. It picked up the needle with its human-like hands. Then, with unnatural strength, thrusted the needle through its throat. It screamed horrificly, its figure thrashing and spasming as it hits the hard ground. Its vision blurred, then blackened, but, before it became completely blind, it saw a little human boy, his face twisted with fear and worry. It heard the human boy yell, "Please, dont die! You're the only creature that I can relate to!" then nothing. 
It was finally free, but wanted to be with the last human it saw...

Walking Dead:

Why do I fear loosing friends?
Gaining friends?
Living?
I feel cold and alone.
No one can understand me because they aren't me.
Why must people always say, "I understand what you're going through." when they have no idea how you react?
People always become sympathetic when a bad move is played.
Why don't they just worry about themselves?
In the end, that's all they'll have, themselves.
No one.
All alone and scared.
Maybe that's why I fear what I fear.
Or maybe I fear them because I'm scared they'll betray me.
Become my enemy.
Have to fight someone I trusted.
Let's face it,
I will always be alone in a room full of humans.
I'm the walking dead.