#128

“Diary of a Survivor”

Location: Former United States of America (abbr., U.S.A.)

Archives: September 2432

The following is a transcription of a diary entry from survivor #128. It is one of few archival materials recovered from the Great End era.

Discovered by Dr. Owen Matherson, Archaeologist [Specialty: Documentation of the Great End], University of the United Hemispheres.

CAUTION: PRIMARY SOURCE. AUTHORIZED USE ONLY. HANDLE WITH EXTREME CARE.

Dear Nobody,

Let me tell you: post-apocalyptic Earth sucks.

I mean, I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. That whole “end of humanity” prediction didn’t exactly leave a good taste in my mouth. I get it.

But come on.

Everybody died. Big surprise there (not). We all knew that was going to happen; it wasn’t exactly a shocker when Lord Anderson announced it like some sort of exhilarating hit of wisdom which, I understand, is a rare quality for a member of the Ethereal Lineage.  

I know––blasphemy. Who would dare insult our dear Lord Anderson?

Please know that I’m laughing right now, Nobody. Which hasn’t happened in a while, by the way, so thank you for that.

But, honestly, I’m the only one here. What’s the worst that could happen if I critique our long dead leader––continuing to live in this dumpster of a reality? I’d rather be executed by our lovely dictator than continue to trudge through this dense, disgusting haze smothering everything as far as the eye can see. At least those executions were quick.

I know, I know. I should be grateful. I’m alive, right?

WRONG, nobody. Wrong.

My feet hurt. It sounds like stupid thing to complain about, but it’s true. They hurt more than anything else. I’m just so tired of walking. I never had to walk before this absurd end-of-the-world garbage. I had my favorite hover-shoes, those sleek black ones with the red laces. They flew me everywhere. I never even had to step on the dirty, grimy ground; I never even had to consider the awful notion.

Now, I have to actually use my feet. On dirt. And they’re sore. It’s ridiculous.

And what I wouldn’t give for a good, beefy dinner. Steak. And a side of roasted potatoes with that seasoning mom always used. And one of those antiquated cylinders of that old drink mom used to like. "Soda", I think she called it. Or "Yoda". Or, is "Yoda" from something else that she liked? A movie, I think...?

Which, speaking of mom, I still have no idea where her or dad are. Or Owen. They’re probably dead, to be honest. Which, on the surface, does sound a bit tragic as I’m writing this, but it really isn’t. I promise. Because they’re probably enjoying wherever they are far better than me.

Maybe they even have hover-shoes.

Anyways, I guess there is one good thing to come out of this. There’s more color, weirdly enough. It’s kind of hard to explain. I didn’t even know this was possible––but did you know that green things can come out of the ground? Yeah. There are all these objects covering the earth everywhere, by the millions; they’re thin and small, about the length of my finger, and they’re green. Literally slivers of green. And they just pop up out of the ground like candy.

Speaking of, I miss my candy garden. That actually made sense––candy growing out of the ground. But these weird green things? I have no idea what to think of them, or how to approach them, or how to use them.

Maybe they're some type of alien species. I wouldn't be surprised. I hope they are. We still haven't found alien life after centuries of the Ethereal Lineage claiming we were making progress.

There are larger green things, too. They’re formed into little triangles the size of my palm with veins spreading all throughout the flat surface, like they’re living or something. And those green triangles are attached to long brown arms (I don’t know what else to call them), and then those arms are attached to one giant brown body (again, I have no idea what to call it). I think it’s some type of mutation of the Earth or something, because they, too, are everywhere. I’m staying away from them for now. Who knows what poison or venom they might contain.

They do smell amazing, though. I’ve never known something to grow out of the ground that smells so good. Even my candy garden didn’t smell that good.

So, a couple good things, I guess. Green things and nice smells.

Great.

The haze seems to be getting somewhat lighter. It’s only taken, what, a decade? But I can now see more than ten feet in front of me. The other day, I think I even saw a fragment of the color blue in the air above me. Which didn’t make any sense at the time. And, it disappeared after a second. So, I probably hallucinated the whole thing. I think these green things have been messing with my head, making me see strange colors that aren't there. Plus, I haven’t exactly talked to anyone for… yeah. For ten years.

Thank Lord Anderson I’m an introvert.

Oh, did I mention that I saw Mrs. Hancock the other day? Yeah. She looked good, besides the fact that she was a rotting corpse and all.

Yup. That’s right. I tripped across her freaking body. Lying right there, in the middle of the sidewalk. She looked okay besides the maggots taking root in her left eye socket.

Ugh. I’m kind of sick of all the bodies, to be honest. That sounds horrible. But I keep seeing body after body after body, and I still have no idea what happened to them. They’re all just lying there, completely unscathed, not even a drop of blood anywhere to be seen. Most of them look like they just fell asleep in the middle of the city and died peacefully. At least, that’s what I’m hoping.

I feel kind of left out. Is that bad?

Yeah, that sounds bad. But, hey, again, I’m the only one here now. I don't even remember what happened. I’m allowed to be crazy.

Anyways, I should probably get going. Not that my plans for the day are exciting. Here’s what my very thrilling week looks like:

•Monday: Sleep. Eat. Walk.

•Tuesday: Sleep. Eat. Walk.

•Wednesday: Sleep. Eat. Walk. Write to Nobody again.

•World War IV Remembrance Day: Sleep. Eat. Remember the fallen (which is everybody now, I guess). Walk.

•Friday: Sleep. Eat. Walk.

•Saturday: Sleep. Eat. Walk. Write to nobody again.

•Ethereal Lineage Day: Sleep. Sing the rebellion song. Eat. Walk.

So, yeah. Very busy.

But, who knows. Maybe I’ll finally get sick and die and fall to the ground like all of these other poor suckers.

I can hope, right?

Sincerely,

[redacted]