Today, 14th October, '17 #2
I didn't think things could get much worse. The sky was on fire; monsters soared through the flames. Everything and everyone that I knew was burned up in front of my own eyes in one way or another. And yet, I was wrong. It isn't much of a surprise though. I could hear the screams, the panic, and...worse things as I got closer to the camp. I should have just went the other direction, but I couldn't just leave Dad behind like that. My family was always there for me, even when I had the typical dumb high school kid problems that suddenly don't seem too serious. They loved me no matter how down in the dumps I got. Dad may have been away from home a lot, but he was always there for me in the end. I owed it to him, and to Mom, to at least see if I could save him. But the closer I got, the more I knew that I probably wouldn't be able to. My lungs were burning from exhaustion and from breathing in so much of the fog. My legs felt as though they were going to lock up on me, and were covered in fresh and not so fresh blood that was still coming out of my knees. And I was terrified of what I'd see once I got there. I was...I am scared. But I just kept on running towards the sounds of horror that I knew I'd find once I got back to the camp. I could hear the ferocious howls of those things and the beating of their wings darting around me above. I kept waiting for one of them to fly down and scoop me up. But that never happened and I finally reached the fence after what felt like days of running blindly through the haze. The panic I heard on the way seemed to have died down some when I finally got there. There were no more gunshots and most of the yelling and screaming had stopped. I could only make out faint images of the tents, towers, and vehicles that made up the camp from where I was. I could also see bodies. And blood. The rational Moira in me kept saying “Run, just get away while you still can.” but I stopped listening to her years ago. So I found a hole in the fence and went further inside, towards the medical tent that Dad was in when I left. I made my way through the worst things I've ever seen: people torn to pieces, some missing their entire chest cavities or heads, and blood coating everything. I kept slipping and sliding on it and all of the bullet casings just made it worse. I finally made it to a stack of supply crates across the way from Dad's tent. The flood lights inside the tent were still on and made it hard to see inside. But what I could see froze me in my tracks. I could make out the outline of one of those...things. It was hunched over near the door of the tent, and seemed to be eating something...or someone. It was tearing large pieces of flesh from a person's leg with his powerful jaw and was using it's leg to hold down it's meal. It reminded me of a dinosaur. But that's when I heard a cry. It was coming from the creature's meal. Whatever blood may have been left in my face completely drained when I realized who it was that was being eaten. It was Patricia, the one person I had gotten kind of close to since this all started. She had lost everything and gave so much to help the sick. And there she was. Nothing that she had gone through before or since mattered now that she was underneath the foot of that beast. I wanted to help her. To save her. But how could I have? What could I have done besides end up it's second course? So I did nothing. I just sat there, huddled behind a bunch of crates, and listened as Patricia was slowly eaten alive. Why didn't I cry? Shock, I guess. I don't know exactly how long I sat there, but it felt like a long time. And eventually, the monster had his fill and flew off into the clouds. There was only one way inside the tent and I had to pass Patricia. I didn't want to look down, but I couldn't help it. And that's when I saw what was left of her. This woman who had gone through so much pain and suffering and yet kept up the appearance of being strong and helpful was reduced to a pile of bones and meat. How in the world was I ever going to survive this? I'm not going to make it, am I? There was a piece of metal piping near her body, a makeshift weapon maybe, that I picked up expecting that I might need it once I went inside the tent. Thinking back on it now, it doesn't seemed to have helped her at all, but it was better than nothing. I used it to part the mesh door flaps of the tent and slowly went inside, shielding my eyes to blinding light. After just a few steps inside, and past the fog lamp, I finally saw what I had suspected all along. Dad was gone. Everyone was gone. What can I really say? The storm outside was not the only violent whirlwind to hit from the looks of it. I slumped down against a cot that had been flipped over. And that's where I've been for awhile. What am I supposed to do now? Where am I supposed to go? It's all gone. The only thing I have left in life now is pain and blood. Not only my own, but everyone else's. I'm going to sit here a little longer. And wait. Wait for what? I don't know, but I'd guess the end. What else can I do? Besides cry, finally.
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Moira Mardas16. Washington. Survivor. This is my personal diary. I have to write to remember. Archives: Start in July for begining of story.
June 2020
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