This Is How I Lived [A Post-Apocalyptic Diary]

March 10th 2022

4:22pm

It’s been about a week now since the end of the world. I think.

Hard to keep track of when everyone started eating each other.

It all started a couple months ago when some weird virus started spreading from deer to people. At first it was just news coverage, scientists yelling over each other on TV and people panic-buying toilet paper.

Then next thing you know, weeks later, they’re culling deer and pulling venison off shelves. People argued about whether it was chronic wasting disease, another COVID mutation, or the government poisoning us.

I mostly tuned out and stayed home.

Everything was all peachy-keen, fine ’n dandy until people started breaking into houses. All the looting and rioting kinda convinced me to escape back to my parent’s house. That lasted less than half a week.

I think I left my crowbar in the kitchen. I wish I could have cleaned up there too.

I should go back eventually.

Or maybe not.

There’s no more room for me.

But on the plus side, I found this cute pink notebook while scavenging some houses today.

It’s officially mine now. I wrote my name on it and everything, so nobody better touch it. Because people who take things without asking are the worst.

And speaking of the worst kind of people, the new house I was staying in for the past five days got invaded by the dead early this morning. I am so tired of them ruining everything, but there was nothing I could do. There were just too many of them. So, I grabbed what I could and ran. I snatched up my phone, practically glued it to my hand.

I thought about texting someone and didn’t like who my brain picked first.

Doesn’t matter though. They’re gone now.

My item checklist

Water. Snacks. Candles and a lighter. Bandages.

Plushies. Stickers. Pink Hello Kitty throw blanket.

I remember standing there, staring at the floor for a few minutes that felt like hours, questioning whether I really needed stuffed animals and cartoon merchandise. Well, the answer was yes. I may be an adult, but I’m also the world’s most unapologetic child. I don’t plan on pretending otherwise when everything is literally dying. And it’s not like anyone is going to take time out of their day, while trying not to be eaten alive, to tell me that I’m a cringe woman-child.

Besides, a lot of this stuff was gifts from my grandparents. My grandmother used to buy these for me all the time even as I got older. She assumed I’d grow out of collecting these at some point, but nope. Joke’s on her, I’m still doing it.

These are non-negotiable survival priorities. Sue me. You won’t. I need these to help prove my life didn’t start off insane.

A dead person grabbed me while I was trying to leave. I panicked and jumped straight through the living room window instead of using a door like a rational human being. In hindsight? Yeah, pretty dumb. But at the time, “use the door” wasn’t exactly winning against “run before the zombies eat me” in the thought department.

After that, just glass everywhere. I’m actually still finding little shards here and there in my clothes. If I find enough pieces, I might finish my first jigsaw puzzle. Pretty sure there’s some in my hair too. Or… was. I tried to get all of it out, won the free prize of surprise cuts but a lack of bandaids. So, I’ll mark that down on my shopping list.

I ran until my lungs felt like they were going to spontaneously combust. I hid behind a hedge, hugging my legs, trying to cosplay as a small boulder. I don’t remember how long I stayed there. Long enough? But once things looked clear and I wasn’t busy having a heart attack, I climbed a fence and ended up in what is clearly an auto shop. It smells like oil and blood in here even now.

The smell alone hit me before I even saw the floor. I kept telling myself it was just tomato juice.

It didn’t work.

I locked myself in the bathroom first and picked all the remaining glass I could find on my body. Used rags I found under the sink to clean myself up with. I’m still discovering tiny cuts I didn’t notice earlier as well. Everything stings, but I think I’m okay?

Spent a good few minutes rummaging around in cabinets and found an old green poncho. I put it on, mostly because my pink shirt and white mini skirt look like they lost a fight with a lawnmower. Poor fashion choice on my part? You bet. The heavily used scratching post wasn’t the aesthetic I was going for, but I’ll live. It provides coverage. All that matters.

But on the bright side, after I was done being my own fashion police, I found some much needed stuff. Things like batteries, a flashlight, towels, a screwdriver, and another pack of bandages.

I got too scared to close the big garage door by the entrance. Loud feels dangerous, especially when dead people have the most sensitive hearing imaginable. Back at the previous hideout, all I did was step on a comically squeaky floorboard and the flood gates to hell opened up. So, I made sure everything was clear before moving around.

Two dudes were wandering in the street. They didn’t notice me, thank god. Too busy being dead I guess. But shoutout to my boy Jesus, he’s been putting in work looking out for me today. Even if it’s shoddy at best.

I went up to a white van in the parking lot. It was unlocked, but I didn’t find much inside. Just some string, rubber bands and some black leather gloves. I might use the string later to make some ‘I survived the zombie apocalypse’ friendship bracelets or something.

Eventually, I made it to the back of the shop. It has an area that opens up into a hall, which then leads to another door. Then bam. Gas station / Convenience store. Very convenient indeed.

The shelves were untouched, snacks littered all over the place. Y’know, chips, candy, soda, etc.

It almost made me cry. I like not starving to death.

I’ll be staying here for now. It’s relatively safe. I think.

6:35 pm

I hear noises outside.

I feel like I heard my mother calling for me. But, that can’t be possible. She’s not… here. I’m pretty sure her and dad aren’t breathing anymore. I checked.

Probably just my hallucinations again.

For now, I’ve set up camp in the auto shop office room. And by camp I mean sitting alone in here with the lights off and doors locked.

Thankfully, there’s a couch, a couple chairs, and a water bubbler that both still works and is mostly full of water. I now have enough junk food and drinks to last me at least a month if I don’t inhale everything within a week.

I also found alcohol.

If I wasn’t trying to survive the 10th circle of hell, I’d probably be getting high ’n fucked up right now. Dopamine is a hot commodity and I’m running low on it.

In the meantime, I grabbed myself some reading material. I might as well learn something. It’s making me wish I actually remembered all that survival stuff I watched on TV. I have an idea of what to do. Just... not how to actually do it.

And with all the insanity that’s been going on, I feel tempted to just go out deep into the woods and become like one of those bushcraft youtubers. To just build a house out of sticks and leaves.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to browse Youtube for lifehacks and DIY survival tips. Sadly, the only thing my phone is good for now is music and telling the time. At least until the battery runs out. Not looking forward to that.

Funny how quickly it went from my whole life to a glorified clock.

Though, the best thing I found here so far is packs of Pokemon cards. I haven’t opened them all yet, but the second pack I opened had an Articuno. Hell yeah!

Not quite sure why a convenience store would be selling these, but I’m not complaining. I’ll have the best collection that’ll likely be seen by nobody.

Going forward, I’m writing everything down. The only place that I can.

And I’ll need to leave this place sooner or later.

I’m just so excited.

Truly.

8:18pm

Something metal fell to the floor. I think it came from the auto shop.

Now the chorus of the damned is behind my door.

Fantastic.

I wish they’d stop sounding like people I know.