I'm pretty sure I died today. Well, the part of me that I know, that died today. I don't recognize the person staring back at me. I'm sitting in front of a shattered, staring at myself. But I don't know the person staring back at me. My name is Olivia Rose Lee. I'm 20 years old, and I live in Indianapolis, IN. Or at least what's left of it. If this recorder somehow makes it out of this God forsaken place, I sure hope that I'm out there with it. If you're hearing this, and I'm not there with you, then I'm probably dead.
Forty-two days ago, I locked myself in one of the rooms at the abandoned Conrad building. I amassed a pile of canned food when I first took shelter here. But my pile is slowly dwindling away, along with what's left of my sanity I think.
I don't exactly know how many normals are left out there, hiding like I am. But what I do know is that the creatures continue to roam the empty streets outside. Sometimes I even hear one or two of those things, dragging their deformed feet up and down the hallway just beyond my door.
To be honest, I don't know what these creatures are exactly. I don't think anyone really does.
The government once said that they are the byproduct of the chemical bomb dropped by Russia some hundred years ago. But I've seen documentaries on the Agent Orange kids of Vietnam, read books about them even. These creatures, here, now, are entirely different.
Wait, wait, sshhh.
Sorry about that, I think I just heard something out there. Wait, I'm saying sorry? To what? Good God I'm losing it!
Well, before I completely lose it, let me tell you how this all started. Hopefully, whoever you are, you'll take this recording to someone, to anyone, who will listen. Please, don't let the whole world forget about Indiana.