Chapter 1
Tuesday, 20th of July, 2010. 15:34
Dear diary,
Today is my sixteenth birthday. I should be happy about it, but I'm not. Why? Because it's my first birthday without my mom. My mom was the one person that brought all the happiness in my life. The one person that made me happy. But she was gone, for one year. Since the accident, I've had therapy and I went to a clinic and other places, and I'm feeling better, but it doesn't bring her back. My dad thought it might be a good idea for me to write everything down.
"As in….a diary?" I asked him.
"Well, yes, that's what girls like to do, right?" My dad's a sweetheart, but he just doesn't get me. He's trying to build a relationship with me, but it's just not working out. I hadn't seen him since the divorce of my parents, about two years ago. I had lived in San Francisco all my life, and after the divorce, my dad moved to Atlanta, Georgia. For me, the other side of the world would be closer. After my mom died, I had to live with him. Not seeing him for one year seemed to had changed everything between us. We never actually talked, and it was more like two people in the same house, instead of father and daughter. And I was OK with it. But then, he wanted me to go in therapy and shit.
And now this. A diary. Great.
I'm living in Atlanta for about a year now, and I still have no friends. I'm a real old school loner. I got some pen-friends on the internet, but that's about it. We live in kinda the end of the city, where the houses aren't that close to each other. It's a boring neighbourhood, the children here are all around six years old. The rest of the people are all in their thirties. The only nice guy around here, is probably Merle. He used to give me some 'stuff', when I was still in my dark times. He's nice to talk with, but after a few strikes, he's getting annoying. Then he starts talking about his old man, and his brother, who lives in the woods and shoots squirrels. I always tell him I have to do homework or something, and then sneak away.
But I never do homework. Ever. School isn't important for me. Not anymore. I used to get the highest grades and was the best of my class, but without my mother, I had no motivation. Even without doing my best, I still got D's. And my dad's fine with that.
Since I got out of the clinic, I started fitness. I asked dad for a card for the gym, and now I'm working out three times a week. Cardio and fitness. And even in the gym, I'm a loner.
That's my life. Very cool. And it's almost summer time, so it's time for another three months to do nothing!
Wednesday, 21th of July, 2010. 16:33
Dear diary,
After another afternoon spending the day inside, I think it's time for an hour sweating in the gym, instead of my room. I've already packed my bags and shit, and I'm ready. My dad kept on saying I should be home early, because there are strange broadcasts and newspapers, all about some kind of sickness, and blablabla….
"And I won't get in white vans with candy, I promise…" I whispered to him, but I think he did hear it, 'cause he rolled with his eyes and shook his head.
Well, I'm heading to the gym. I'll see you later, my dear, dear diary! (smell the sarcasm?)
18:12
Holy shit. That's all I can say. I can't even write straight, my handwriting is all shaky and the letters are ugly, but fuck it. Hell just got loose. I'm in the basement right now, and my dad is freaking out. He's trying to call the police, but the lines are down. The TV doesn't work either, and we're stuck.
I can't write right now, I need to calm down for a bit. Be right back.
18: 18
I'm still not calm, but I need to get these thoughts on paper. It's all so confusing and it happened so fast. I'll start at the beginning.
As I was cycling back home from the gym, I saw a man bend over a woman. She was laying on the ground, and I saw a lot of blood. I thought she was wounded, so I stepped of my bike and ran to the pavement.
"Is there something wrong, sir?" I asked. The man turned around, and he looked creepy as fuck. His eyes were all yellow, or green, or grey, I don't know, but not a natural colour. His skin was very pale, and seemed almost dead, and he was clapping his jaws together, and reached out with his arms to me. I stepped back, and got a quick look at the woman. Half her shoulder was gone, I could see all the muscles and flesh, and blood. Lots of blood. The wound went up her face, and her cheek was almost eaten away.
I had the feeling I needed to vomit, and I walked back. The creepy man was standing up, and tried to get to me. I walked back, but tripped over something. I landed on my back and elbows, and hurt myself. The man was getting closer, and I tried to kick him away. But he was too strong for me, and was getting closer. I screamed for help, and at that moment, the man stopped. He fell on the ground, his head bleeding. I looked at the corpse, and saw an arrow sticking out of the back of his head. A black arrow, with green feathers at the end. I looked around to see where it came from, but I didn't have the time. The woman that lay on the ground a second ago, was getting up.
I just followed my instinct, and got back to my bike. I went home as fast as I could. Dad never looked so happy to see me. He was grabbing a lot of stuff and put it in a bag, and told me to go to the basement. I did as he said, and waited for him to come too. And when he finally got here, he brought my diary with him.
"Thought you might need it" he said. I rolled with my eyes, but took it. And now, I'm almost happy to have it.
21.57
I just had a long talk with my dad. He told me what was going on. Broadcasts told him that there was some kind of virus that turned people into cannibals or something. We were ordered to stay inside, away from the infected. We had to prevent ourselves from getting bit or scratched, and if that happened, we needed to find a medic.
I told dad about the man and the woman I saw on my way home. But he didn't believe me.
"It was real, dad! I was sure she was dead, but she suddenly stood up!"
"Vicky, that's insane!" He only said. "You must've seen it wrong."
"No, I didn't! I really saw it, dad!" I was almost yelling at that point.
"Shh! Keep it quiet!" He warned me.
"Why don't you believe me? It's real, dad! I don't think those things are people anymore!"
"Stop it, right now!" He was pissed at me, so I shut my mouth.
Now, he's trying to get a signal on the walkie-talkie, and the emergency phone here. The broadcasts have stopped, on radio and TV. My dad's not calling the police anymore, he's trying his brother. My uncle, Isaac, lives just outside the city. My dad's trying to get us away from here.
I don't want to ask why. I think I already know it. The things are here. The people. The sick ones. We are here, and they are outside. I can feel it. I feel what's coming. I know what's coming. Just as in the night my mom died.
