Diary of the Apocalypse

Dear Diary, Mar 13, 2015

It’s my birthday!!! I’m finally 10. It felt like it took ages and ages. Oh—do you like my new glitter pens? I do! I’ve got pink, blue, and purple and I’ll use them all. Maybe I can make doodles on my homework. My friends got me a bunch of other really cool presents and we ate a bunch of cake! It was really good cake. I love cake, and Mama saved some cupcakes for later.

I invited the fairies to my party, but they didn’t come. Mama says it’s too early in the season for them to come and that they’d write. I think that’s stupid! And they didn’t write to me either. Mama said they must have been busy and forgotten. It makes me sad that they forgot me, but it’s fine, they’ve written me stuff before.

That’s all for now! Bye!!

XOXO,

Amy

Dear Diary, Mar 14, 2015

I’m scared.

Mama woke me up before the sun came up and I dunno why and I’m tired. We’re driving somewhere and Daddy seems worried. Daddy’s never worried. He says we’re leaving the city, but all my friends and my school and my kitty are here. Mama said we couldn’t bring the kitty. But she said we’d be back before we know it.

I’ll try to be brave for Mama and Daddy.

Amy

Dear Diary, Mar 15, 2015

Daddy told me to shut my eyes, but people were still screaming. I don’t know what’s going on I just want it to be over. Mama says the fairies will still save everyone, but I don’t believe her. Her eyes are too sad.

I’m not sure I can be brave.

Dear Diary Mar 17, 2015

We had to run. I couldn’t make it and Daddy picked me up. There’s fire and people are eating each other. Mama says they’re sick. I’m scared. I don’t want to get sick. Daddy says I won’t, but I don’t believe him. Everyone’s sick. I don’t want anyone to eat me. No one knows what’s wrong, and the TVs stopped working.

Daddy stole a gun. He says it’ll keep us safe, but shooting the sick people doesn’t kill them. We’re still running. I don’t know where we’ll go. I just wanna go home, but Mama and Daddy say it’s not safe. I miss my kitty. I hope she’s not sick. Or worse.

Dear Diary Mar 19, 2015

I’m so tired. We found an empty house. Daddy said it was abandoned, but I saw the blood on the floor. It’s on a hill and near the woods. Mama tells me to sleep, but I’m too hungry and too scared. I don’t want to get eaten in my sleep. Or get sick.

Mama and Daddy don’t relax either. At least there’s food here. And a coloring book. I think someone like me lived here, once. I wonder what happened to her. I don’t think I want to know.

Mar 23, 2015

We ran out of food two days ago. Daddy went out to get food and hasn’t come back. Mama says he’s fine. I don’t believe her. I wrote a note to the fairies so they’d keep him safe. It felt stupid.

Mar 25, 2015

Daddy came back. He had blood on his shirt.

Apr 2? 2015

We had to leave. There were sick people everywhere. But I don’t think they’re people anymore. Their eyes and mouths are bloody. They smell like rot. Mama says they’re dead. I don’t understand how someone can be dead and sick at the same time. Daddy says that’s how this one works.

I don’t know what day it is anymore.

Apr 6? 2015

Daddy says there’s a camp that’ll keep us safe. Mama says she doesn’t trust the military but we have no other choice. I don’t care. I’m just scared. I just want to be safe and have food. I just want Mama and Daddy to be happy.

It’s a long walk and my legs already hurt. Daddy said it’ll all be over soon. I don’t believe him. I don’t think Mama does either.

May 2015

The men at the camp are mean. They want to take the diary from me. Mama says they want to train me to be like them, but she’ll keep me safe. Daddy thinks I should go. He thinks I’ll have a better chance at living. I hate it when Mama and Daddy fight. Maybe it would be better if I just wasn’t here.

May 2015

I don’t want to go. They said they’d take me away from Mama and Daddy and I don’t wanna leave. I wanna go back home and play with the fairies and the mermaids and my friends. None of my friends are here. I hope they’re not dead.

.

.

.

Entry #1—July 12, 2021

The camp fell. Half of the milita now has the Sickness. A lot of the soldiers do too. I don’t know how the damn things got through the barricades and the walls and the guns. At least zombies can’t use guns, otherwise I’d be fucked. As it is, over half of the new ones now have body armor.

- - - - - - -

Mom and Dad’s house was empty. I haven’t seen them in six years, but the damn drill sergeants never failed to remind me how close they lived.

The only thing left in the house was this stupid diary and some ammo. The guns are gone—that’s a good sign at least.

I need to make sure I’m quiet, or I’ll get swarmed on the streets.

Current inventory:

1 pistol with enough ammo for 4 rounds

1 shotgun with enough ammo for 7 shots

1 sniper rifle with enough ammo for a hoard of zombies

1 automatic with no ammo

1 knife

4 grenades

2 smoke bombs

Rations to last 2 weeks

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper

Entry #2—July 13, 2021

The streets are a damn ghost town. Any survivors must have scattered by now; large groups are dangerous without camp to retreat back to. I can only assume they’re heading to the nearest military camp. I know from experience that the camps are hostile to each other, but there isn’t much of a choice for most. That’s probably where my parents are heading too.

I killed 2 zombies yesterday. I didn’t lose any ammo.

- - - - - - -

I looted the houses. There wasn’t much ammo, but there was some food and other miscellaneous supplies that could be useful.

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper

Entry #5—July 21, 2021

I found a letter in one of the houses. A suicide note next to a man’s body. From the rushed contents of the letter, it seems he contracted the Sickness before he died.

Dear Anna and Maria,

I don’t know if you’ll ever find this, but I miss you. I fucked up, I know, but I wish you were here with me. I hope you’re safe. Or maybe it would be better if you succumbed in the first wave. I survived a year out here on my own, and it was a living hell. I’m almost glad it’s my time, I just wish I could have found you first.

Maybe I’ll find you in the afterlife, if there even is one. Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than this. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, but I don’t have a choice anymore, and I can’t let myself become one of them. That’s a fate worse than death.

I changed my mind, actually. I hope you never find this. If you were here, it would only make this so much harder. I would never wish for you to see me like this. I can only imagine how much you’ve lost. I’m sorry.

Daniel

I don’t know why I’m taking the letter with me. It just feels wrong to leave it there for no one to see it. No one deserves to be forgotten, and maybe I can keep some part of Daniel’s memory alive in the pages of this journal.

It’s a childish sentiment, but I can’t find it in myself to care. It makes my journey feel marginally less worthless.

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper

Entry #10—July 26, 2021

It’s weird being by myself. Every second of my time in the military camp was spent training. And once I finished training, I was scouting. I was the best sniper in my group, despite being in a group made up of adults, and that became my entire identity.

It was hard. There was no time for fun or for friends. Drinking with the adults when I couldn’t sleep was the closest thing I got to affection. Don’t get me wrong, our group was close-knit, but it was a bond forged through our need to survive and our trauma. There was nothing soft about it.

I don’t think I even know who I am anymore. Finding this diary was like a slap in the face, showing me who I was—who I could have been in a different life. Will my parents even recognize me when I find them—if I find them? Will they even want me back now that I’m a stranger to them?

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper

Entry #12—July 29, 2021

There’s a man strung up on a building in front of a hotel. That means bandits must have come through here not too long ago. The military may be ruthless, but they aren’t this flavor of cruel.

I found a small piece of paper in his shirt pocket. It was a picture of a boy with similar features—his son—with two short lines on the back.

In loving memory of Marcello Addams. 2003–2013.

You will be missed.

I feel sorry for the man for losing his son so young, but I can’t help but be glad that the boy didn’t have to go through this. Maybe that makes me a bad person.

I hope this man finds his son wherever he is now. After all, he carried Marcello’s memory through the horrors of an apocalypse. I think they deserve to be together. Maybe they’re in heaven eating cotton candy and playing catch together.

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper

Entry #13—August 3, 2021

I haven’t had a second of peace since I ran into those damn bandits. They chased me all over the city until I found a good vantage point to mow them all down from. There were more of them than there should have been. I think they’re recruiting civilians on their way to military camps.

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper

Entry #21—August 12, 2021

The checkpoint has been ransacked. I think bandits got to it first, then the zombies took whatever remained. I hope the camp had better luck. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s gone too.

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper

Entry #24—August 21, 2021

Fuck.

If anyone comes through looking for the North-Eastern Encampment, it has been moved north 10 miles to the old school by Providence. We’re running out of resources here and it’s not sustainable to house that many people. All essential persons were moved. Any remaining are running this camp as they see fit.

Brandon White

Recruit #38274

Well, that explains the surplus of bandits.

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper

Entry #30—September 1, 2021

There’s too many zombies on the main road, so I have to go around. That adds a few days to my journey, but its worth it.

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper

Entry #37—September 16, 2021

Maybe it would have been better if I’d gone and died with the rest of my camp.

Entry #43—September 23, 2021

More bodies. I’m starting to wonder whether anyone in the group made it at all. I’m hungry and I’m running out of food. Is it worth it to keep going?

Entry #45—September 25, 2021

I had a dream last night. For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t a nightmare. I was with Mom and Dad. I don’t even remember what we were doing, just that it was nice. I hate nice dreams. It’s harder to face reality after.

Entry #50—October 1, 2021

I was so close. It’s funny, I can actually see the gate from the trees.

But I was bitten, so I’ll never make it. I want to go out on my own terms. I’m not sure if I’m sad or not, just numb. Mom and Dad might be sad, but they don’t even know if I’m alive. Maybe they’ve started a new family. I hope not. Not for me, but for whatever kid they might bring into this world.

If anyone is reading this, I hope you’re in a better position than I am—I hope the world’s fixed and this diary is nothing but a memory for people to look at in the future and remember with a shiver of dread and nothing more.

I won’t let myself turn.

I love you Mom, Dad.

Amanda Howard

Recruit #58923 Sniper