I’ve never really been sure of the point of keeping a Journal, it’s always seemed like a rather vain thing to do, like why would you need to write down thoughts that are perfectly fine in your head? Even after our parents death, Reed had tried to get me to keep one to ‘express’ my feelings in a healthy way, but I guess now, with the risk of dying every day, it makes sense to keep a record, people will want to know what happened, what life was like after the outbreak, I guess.

At first, after I lost Reed, it was hard. I was left alone with no idea what to do. I had to stay in the woods for a while, the town was… overrun with the undead, people were screaming, being eaten alive, looting, fighting, it was surreal to see something that horrific in the middle of a quiet town. Reed told me to run and… I did, I left him and just ran and ran until I got someplace familiar, a clearing he’d taken me camping once or twice, Reed did things like that, after Mom and Dad died, he tried to keep up the traditions, Dad’s camping and hunting trips, Mom’s cook outs..

Anyway, I waited for him for a whole day, then as it got dark I realised he wasn’t coming back. I spent a few weeks finding places to set traps like Dad had taught us, I slept in short stints, naps really, wherever was safe. I was doing okay, until the Undead started roaming the woods too. I ran at first, but after the third attack, I was tired and cornered, I had to fight back.. I had to. It wasn’t so bad, they weren’t trained fighters or anything, just sort of… mindless I guess, so consumed with wanting to bite. They don’t seem to think, at least the ones I’ve seen don’t, it’s like they’re all instinct and rotting flesh.

The worst part is when you’re alone and trying to sleep, every little snap of a twig, rustle of leaves make you jolt, make your heart race. I was in a bit of a state when a deputy found me, Clint, I think that was his name. He said I could stay at his place, or the hospital, but I’d have to work if I wanted to stay there. I chose the hospital. A man, the Sheriff, he showed me around, said the nothing was free but so long as I worked I’d have a bed, running water, and a meal a day.. After bathing in rivers, trying to clean my clothes in it and peeing in the woods, it sounded fairly glamorous. The Sheriff is nice too, he gives me candy sometimes, looks out for me if I help him out. He’s quite handsome too, in a cop kind of way.

More later, I’m tired.