(A/N: Scribbles is an original character who appears in the story my friend and I are working on. I decided to write a quick journal about the days leading up to her crazy. This takes place before "Romac".)
Entry 1:
I have absolutely no clue what happened. All I know is that I came up from the basement, and the world had vanished. Everything is gone. No one is left except for their bones. Cars are lying on their sides, buildings are crumbling, and it hurts when I breathe the air. I think there's something bad in it. Noxious gases, vapours or nuclear materials. I'm not sure. What I do know, though, is that I have found a few things that'll help me survive;
- Gas mask
- Leather jacket
- A toque
- My scarf that Mum knit me
- My hikers – a standby
- Cargo pants
- Warm clothes underneath
I also have a book, a pen, a notebook, some food, and a towel. . . because as long as you know where your towel is, everything is okay.
I saw something out the window, too. I think it's a mutation of some sort. I really should move along. I need to find somewhere safe.
Entry 2:
I suck at keeping journals. Two months have passed since the first entry.
This new world is so tough, so cold, and very lonely. I haven't seen a single person since. . . Well, since before this happened, anyway.
I know I'll see someone soon, though. I can't be the last person on Earth. Unless I'm dead and this is what the afterlife is. . . No. I'd know if I was dead.
Wouldn't I?
Entry 3:
I don't know how long it's been since the apocalypse. This is what this is, right? Isn't it? My eyes are burning, now. I think I need something to protect them. I've been searching around, but I can't find anything. I need goggles. Good ones. Maybe they can help keep the cold wind off of my face, too. I don't know why there's still wind. Wind is caused by the rising of warm air, and cooler air rushing in to replace it. There's no more warm air. No warmth, period.
I'm scared to start a fire to keep warm with, because the worms might find me. I saw one for the first time, yesterday. It was terrifying. So many teeth, I couldn't count them all.
I can't remember the number that comes after forty nine. I think it's sixty. Yeah, that sounds right. Forty eight, forty nine, sixty. That sounds right.
It's getting dark, now. I need to find somewhere safe to hide. I can't, though. There isn't anywhere safe, now.
Entry 5:
Mm, hmm. Well, today I found an odd little thing. Yes, I did. It's fuzzy and soft. Maybe I could use it as a pillow or something. Well, it kind of looks like an animal I used to know. Not sure what kind. It doesn't have a name, either. I asked it. Some people that I used to know would say that it's strange to talk to things that aren't human. Mm. Maybe that's what I'll call it. Thing.
Entry 5:
If someone in the far off future where the spring comes is reading this, you may wonder why there are two entry '5's.
I forgot how to count.
Yesterday was the best and worst day of my life. I'm terrified. I didn't realize the gravity of my situation. I felt. . . happy. Forgetful. So forgetful, I forgot how to count. Lucky I didn't forget my name.
Oh. Oh god. OH GOD! I CAN'T REMEMBER MY NAME! I MUST HAVE IT ON ME SOMEWHERE! NOT ON MY COAT, MY HAT, MY BOOKS. . . I CAN'T REMEMBER!
. . .
I took a little breather. I had a panic attack that lasted an almost entire half an hour as I tried to remember my name. Mum must have used my name. I don't remember, though. I only remember her calling me "Muffin". That's a silly name. I don't think that's my name. It's only a nick-name.
Maybe I'll remember tomorrow.
Anyway, about yesterday. . . I can't possibly describe it. It was like being high, maybe, but I wouldn't know. I've never been high. I felt happy, elated, excited and energized, all at the same time. I couldn't focus on anything at all, and I ran around, skipping and singing like a crazy person.
Am I crazy? I don't think so. If I was crazy, I'd know it. On the other hand, I heard that as long as you know you're insane, you're not too far gone. I didn't realize I was insane, yesterday. God, I hate to think of what would've happened if a worm or something came and saw me prancing around like an idiot. . .
On the lighter side, I found a nice pair of science goggles. They remind me of my brother. Sigh. . .
Entry 6:
I found somewhere safe. Well, kind of safe. The top of a crumbling skyscraper is not the safest place you could be, but it's worm-free.
There's a bookstore down the street. At least I'm not bored. That doesn't stop me from being lonely, though.
Entry 7:
I've started moving the books from the store, up to the top of the skyscraper. I'm building a fort. It'll be warm and cozy, when I can find some blankets and towels and stuff to keep warm with. I should probably figure out a way to detect radiation in food in water, aside from the "if it glows, don't consume" method. Speaking of which, I should really find a bite to eat. I haven't eaten anything in a few days, but surprisingly, it doesn't bother me that much. The hunger, I mean. The loneliness is another matter. Heck, I've even started talking to Thing! That's how lonely I am! Hahaha. . .
Ha. . .
Entry 8:
I'm really worried. I still can't remember my name. I checked the inside of my jacket, my backpack, my writing notebook, the inside of my hikers. . . Couldn't find a thing.
I did, however, find a note from my mom. This is what it said;
Muffin,
Have a great time at summer camp! Write me as soon as you get there, okay?
Love and kisses,
Mummy
I started crying when I read this. I remember my mum, dad, brother and cats so well. . . I remember what they look, smell, act and smile like. I remember how warm they were, how much they loved me. I can't remember my name, though. I wish I could forget everything like how I forgot my name. Then I wouldn't feel so sad, anymore. It's enough being lonely; I can't stand being sad and insane, too. Maybe I'll go crazy and forget everything like I did a few weeks ago (that's how long it's been, now).
I wish.
Entry 9 (I think):
Nine comes after eight, right? That sounds right.
I found in my notebook that I referred to myself as "Lexi". That's odd. I have no idea why. It sounds silly. Maybe I can call myself that for a little while. Until I find my original name.
I'm really tired today. I ran away from three worms, the first I've seen in months. I suppose they all piled up into one day, because they missed me during that time. I'm not sure.
I found a few of those hand warmers. You know the ones; you squeeze them and they heat up. I can't remember why they do that, but I know science has something to do with it. Science has to do with everything, and so does art. I'm okay at drawing, if I do say so myself, but writing is my passion. If the world didn't end, I would have become a writer. Or maybe someone who solves crimes. I'm not sure.
Entry 11 10
My math skills have all but completely deteriorated away. I can't remember what eleven times eleven is. I can't even remember what seven times eleven is! Ugh, this is so frustrating and depressing. I hope I find someone soon. I haven't stopped looking, you know. Misery enjoys company.
Entry 11:
I found a rainbow puddle, today! It was the nicest thing I've seen in a long, long time. It was full of all sorts of colours, and I could see sparkles in it! It looked really nice. I also found this neat watch next to it. I shook it, and it started ticking again. I set it for seven o'clock when it got dark out.
Entry 13:
I'm running out of things to do. I wonder if I can find a book that tells me how to hotwire a car, then maybe I can go for a drive. That might not be a good idea, though. The worms would find me – or something worse – and the car might go KABLOOIE!
If you're wondering what could be worse, I'll tell you; I saw a hunter-wraith today. I wasn't really sure that they exist, but now I know. It was terrifying. I'm lucky that I made it out alive. It looked like a hooded… thing. Three eyes. Long pincers. It was terrifying.
I think it's been a year, now. Since the apocalypse, I mean. I'm getting used to being alone, but I still don't like it. You don't have to like something to be used to it. Wait. . . Since it's been a year, I guess that means I'm thirteen, now. Cool. I'm a teenager. . . and there's no one around to celebrate with me.
I'm also a little bit scared. I think that the stuffed animal might be talking to me. . .
The belated entry 12:
Fuck. I missed a number again.
Anyway, I found a dead person, today. Not like a person who was just bones, but they still had skin and flesh and stuff. It looked like they tried to beat off a monster with a lead pipe. I think I should get a weapon of sorts.
But I've always sucked at sports. However, I'm getting very fast. I'm good at running away and stuff.
Still. I need a gun. My aim might not be very good, but maybe I can scare it off.
Entry 14:
I've been searching for months and I can't find a weapon of any sort. I guess they've all be scrounged by the WasteLanders. I really hope I don't have to meet one of them. I saw one when I was sitting in my fort, once. He was huge and ugly and scary and I hid. It wasn't a lot of fun. I think they kill people and eat their bones.
Entry 15:
Thing told me that if I befriended some WasteLanders, they'd give me food.
I told him that he was lying and that was a bad idea.
He said that it might not be a bad idea.
I said yes.
He said no.
I said that they might kill me and eat my bones.
He said maybe not.
I said that maybe not wasn't good enough for me, and I told him to drop it.
He didn't say anything to that. Clearly, I won.
Entry 18:
I almost went blind a few weeks ago.
How, you ask? Well, Thing told me that I should get my goggles fixed at the nearest goggle-shop, but I said no, they'd be okay.
I was wrong.
Within an hour, they fractured and a piece of plastic got in my eye. The nuclear breeze didn't help, at all. I was blind in my left eye for a whole two weeks, and in that time I walked into a lot of poles and managed to find a new pair of aviator goggles. They're tinted orange, but quite clear, and they fit snugly around my head. They're also warmer than my old ones because they have padding.
I like orange. It's my favourite colour. The orange lenses on my goggles make everything look a little happier, and a little brighter.
Entry 19:
I thought I heard someone, today. But I didn't. It was just a lie. Thing told me so.
I haven't really told you much about Thing. He's a black and white cat who's very nice to me and always tries to give me good advice. He's wrong a lot of the time, and I tell him so, but I shouldn't ignore it because a lot of the time he's also right.
Entry 20:
Did you know that some worms can breathe fire? Thing and I found out today. We both got a little burned. Poor Thing is missing half his whiskers, now.
Entry 21:
I think it's been a year and six months since everybody died. I miss people. I didn't used to like them, but now I miss them. I guess it's like that old song, "Big Yellow Taxi". The line goes like this: "Don't it always seem to go/that you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone". . .
Yeah. That sounds about right.
I tried making my own music, today. Before, I used to hum a little to myself, but now Thing and I were singing a duet and I was banging on a garbage can. It was a bad idea, since a worm came after us when it heard us, but it was worth it. Music is so beautiful; I never want to forget it.
Even if it is, literally, trash music.
Entry 22:
I found a pair of roller skates, today.
I tried using them, but I fell a lot.
Finally, I got the hang of them.
But one of the wheels broke.
Too bad.
Entry 23:
I found a sports store. That's where the skates were from, apparently. I found the address, since it was written on the skates. The clerk behind said that I could help myself to anything, free of charge. Gee, he was nice.
Skinny fellow.
He didn't want to be my friend, though.
Anyway, Thing and I played a nice game of ball hockey together. I remember learning how to play when I was seven. Hm. Maybe I can play ice hockey, like I used to. I doubt that I can find a pair of skates for my clodhoppers (size 10!).
Entry 25:
I think I'm getting better at counting. Let's see. . . One, two, three, five, six, eight. . . No, that's not right. . .
I'm getting a bit of a headache. I've had it for a week or two, now. Since playing hockey. Oh. On that day, my mask got knocked off. . . Do you think that I've got radiation poisoning? I'll ask Thing. He'll know.
Entry 26:
Today, Thing and I walked for a long time. Right out to the edge of the city area. That's a long ways. We didn't go farther, though, because at the edge of the city, in one direction there's this big, wide, black ocean. It's pretty, in an odd way. The other direction there's a great, brown plain land. It's so flat; you could watch your dog running away for three days. That's how the prairies were described to me when I was ten.
I turned fourteen recently. I think. Happy birthday… um… insert my name here!
. . .
That's still not my name, though. Obviously.
Entry 28:
Found a fan, today! Doesn't work, though. Need electricity.
Entry 30:
I slept until nightfall, then I had to wake up and wander around in the dark when all the monsters are out. It was really scary. I don't have any scary books because my life is scary enough as it is.
Entry 32:
I realized that I've been missing entry numbers a lot. I also wonder why Thing talks to me. Stuffed animals didn't talk to me before. Maybe the radiation affected my hearing, so now I can understand them.
. . . or maybe I'm going crazy.
Nah. It couldn't be. It wouldn't make sense.
. . . would it?
Entry 33:
I'm scared. Really scared. I know I'm crazy, now. There's nothing I can do about it. I don't know what made me this way… maybe because I'm lonely, maybe because of the air, maybe because I ate something funny. I don't know. I'll probably never know.
It's taking all of my concentration to focus on writing like this. My hand is shaking really badly. But I want people to remember this. I want people to remember the apocalypse, the fallout, doomsday. If the world ever gets back on its feet, I never want anyone else to have to endure the things I've been through. I'm only a kid! I should be worrying about homework and boyfriends, not whether or not I'll get EATEN tomorrow!
So… here it goes.
My name is… well, I don't remember anymore. It doesn't matter though. By the time you're reading this, more likely than not I'll be dead.
The year is 20 something something. The world has ended. Humans have destroyed themselves from the inside out, abusing the planet, its inhabitants, and even the technology we have created. All that's left of our once great civilizations are bones, the skeletons of buildings, and the ashes of our dreams.
To whoever is reading this, please take it as a cautionary tale. Stop things while you can, before it's too late.
Please.