September 25, 1998
In most of those action flicks you see in theaters, this is the point where the main character would say, "The shit has finally hit the fan." Now you can't even leave the city. The military has come in and set up barricades on all roads leading in and out of Raccoon. Any hope of escaping this hell hole has sunk along with my will to get up in the morning. Or it could be night - it's always so damn dark here I can never tell what time it is.
For the past week I've done nothing but lay here on the couch with the news on. The shit that comes on lately is nothing but the stuff you'd hear in horror stories. People are disappearing, the hospital's overrun with what they're calling "the infected," and now the whole city's on a fuckin' quarantine. Some people are looting in the city, while others have become overnight hermits like me.
At what I assume is during the night, creepy sounds can be heard coming from everywhere. Honestly, every hour that I lay here I expect my front door and windows to bust in, teeming with criminals or demons - whichever finds me first. I don't know.. Maybe I deserve it? Maybe this is some kind of punishment that God's sent down on this forsaken city? That's what mom would say anyway.
Ever since this shit started I've been writing in this book. I've never done this sort of thing before. Since I don't go out, and there's no social interaction, I guess this is the best way to get my thoughts out of my head.
When it comes down to it, I know I'm not making it out of here. No one will. Even if I managed to get packed and make it to the rim of the city, I'll be shot if I try to leave past the blocks. The military would see me as a threat. And I'm just like my dad - I'm stubborn. I won't go down without fighting, and if they press me I'd give it all I've got.
Yeah, that'd get me killed. But hey, maybe that's a better way out?
News reports talking about people being mangled... Eaten..
This shit really is a nightmare.
I'm running low on food. Since I can't leave my apartment I'm not going to work. That means my bills will come due, because you know as well as I do that even with crazy shit like this happening all around the city the electric company will still turn your lights off if you don't battle some insane misfits in public to make a bill payment.
I guess it's funny, that I'm worrying about bills at a time like this. But hell, what else am I gonna think about? I'm not gonna sit here and rock back and forth muttering to myself and go crazy too.
No, my time will come eventually. Someday they'll find me laying right here on this couch. That is, if the city is still standing then. Maybe I'm blowing this out of proportion, but this shit isn't something you can just wake up from. Not this time.
No, we've stumbled into something we can't control. The hospitals aren't safe, the police are nowhere to be seen, and the military are stopping people from going anywhere that's considered safe.
This is all we have now. This is our hell. And I'm just going to lay here and wait.
