24th December 1981
Someone once told me that you are never as broken as you think you are. I sincerely hope that they are right.
My whole world as I knew it has changed, been flipped on its side by the decisions made by one man, if you could even call him that. It amazes me how one person can cause so much pain and destruction to so many people. Everyone has been affected by this, by one idea that infected the minds of people and grew out of control.
My family is dead. Almost all of my friends have also perished, fighting for the cause. Fighting for the good cause, the right cause. They were all so young, too young to die the way they did. And I am one of the few left. I am left to pick up the pieces, to try and make a life for myself. I have to console families, attend funerals and help to catch the last of the few of the sick, twisted people who brought this, or helped to bring this around. The real scum of the earth.
Life is difficult at the moment. The all consuming grief and betrayal has so far not faded with time, and I miss them all. So much.
When Christmas day comes tomorrow, I will not celebrate, instead I will sit and remember my friends, my family and their lives. I will wonder to myself what might have been, and I will tell you all their entire story, as they would have wanted it to be told. I'll tell you the truth, some of it good, someone of it gut wrenchingly bad.
My name is Cara Oakley, and I was the fifth marauder. And this is our story.
