Name: Rose Collins
Age: 14
Location: Britain
Dear Diary,
Fifty-nine days have passed since it all started... Since those things invaded our lives. I've watched what they do once they've turned into what seems like a state of mindlessness. Zombies. They move like zombies. They vary in many portrayals I've seen in movies before but these ones were real. Do you aim for the head to disarm one?
There are few families that remain here in the east of the city. I've sat here in my boarded up home waiting for the day we leave. My father says "Soon" every time my mother or I ask. My mother panics and sobs quietly in fear for our lives every time she hears one scratching up the boards that protect our home. It's dangerous in this neighbourhood as we live on an estate which houses hundreds of families. The hundreds of people living here that could possibly be one of those things.
It's been exactly seven days since I've heard any kind of vehicle pass. The vehicles left behind sit vacant on the deathly silent streets and roads, windows smashed and smothered in blood and remains of the occupants. I've sat here in the window and peered through the holes and cracks, shreds of hope remain that we'll escape one day. I've heard countless screams and pleas for help which I'm told to ignore... it was only five days ago I witnessed a horde of zombies rip two men apart within five minutes. The men fought them back as hard as they could but the horde was large and consisted of about thirty zombies. I watched as they crammed the human remains down their dirty, colourless throats. Blood smeared around their drawn faces. Once the food no longer fought back they returned to their mindless wandering and moaning, waiting for the next meal to appear.
Our supplies won't last much longer... and we many have to venture out to find more if we're going to survive here. Sitting here and writing this, I've caught the attention of one. It stood still for a moment vacantly staring up at my direction. I could feel it's empty eyes looking at me... but I knew it couldn't see me but rather smell me. I had to turn away and look elsewhere but home felt like prison and there was nowhere else to focus my attention. There is no longer an electricity supply to our shelter but the water and gas remains. I'm afraid of becoming one of those things and fear my father will crack under the pressure of trying to find an escape. I watch my mother curl up in fear every day and her face is always wet from the tears. My father just sits there staring into nothingness. I know why my mother cries but not why my father stares silently.
I hope we leave soon...
Sincerely
Rose x
A/N: I will try to update so many per week.