((Hey everyone, this is a journal entry from my character Jordana. She tends to write things in quite sporadically. Here she’ll be detailing things she feels passionate about, her inner emotions, dark secrets, and maybe some stuff about her mental state as well. Unless someone were to find this journal they would not know any of these things IC. The journal itself is a small black leather notebook with a pen stuck inside it. Her handwriting is in cursive and it looks very neat. The journal’s usually in her backpack, underneath all the other shit in there. If anyone wants to RP going through her stuff and finding it, shoot me an IM. I’d be more than happy to help out. She’ll probably shit-talk a LOT of people in here, please don’t take offense OOC. I harbor no negative feelings toward anyone here OOCly. Anyways, I’ll stop rambling and let you read what you came for.))
November 17th, 2015.
It’s been a while since I’ve written in this. Sorry. Life has just been a mess lately. I’m scared. I’m scared of everything. I haven’t talked to Lina. Me and Brett aren’t together anymore. Everything is changing. The mercs are ruining things, as expected. I haven’t been to work in like……. I don’t even know anymore. They probably think I’m dead. Or I left. Either way, it doesn’t really matter to me. I thought about leaving for a while. Even before everything happened. I just didn’t think I could stay here. Out there it was so much easier. We didn’t have crazy people everywhere trying to fucking kill us. Instead we were the killers. It was so easy. There were so many of us and things worked out. I almost miss that. Well, I miss the power at least. I certainly don’t miss the killing. You can’t forget those faces. We were so lucky. No one could stand up to us. Any community we attacked fell. And we killed any survivors, no matter who they were, so they didn’t have a chance at fighting back. I remember one specific community. It was out in Nevada. They were doing pretty well. Near Reno. We just went in and killed everyone. Then we took their stuff and left. But there was one person from there I won’t forget. She was some young woman. You could tell she was pregnant. She had one of those big pregnant bellies. Still pretty though. Had that pregnancy glow. I almost let her go. But Retta was coming close and she would’ve made it a much more painful death. I had to slit her throat. I watched her cry and try and seal up the slash. That baby never even had a chance. I’ll never get her face out of my head. That’s one thing I don’t miss. The killing was always hard. I had to do it though. I had to do it or they would’ve killed me. If I wasn’t helping them then I would’ve been no use to them. I remember Perri tried to avoid killing anyone. She wouldn’t participate. They had the men of the group rape her and then they all took turns stabbing her until she died. I didn’t wanna suffer that same fate. I know this is just a journal, but to that pregnant lady out there, whoever you were and wherever the hell you are, I’m sorry. I can’t bring you back. I can’t trade lives, and I don’t want to, but I’m sorry. You and your baby deserved to live. Maybe I could’ve done something. I could’ve killed Retta and said it was in self-defense. Coulda shoulda woulda. Too late now. Just can’t do it again. I haven’t left my apartment in like a week, maybe two. Ever since that whole episode with Brett, and then saving Hanna. I couldn’t do it. I have food. I have water. There’s a bathroom. I’m scared to see him. I don’t wanna see him, but I do. I’m so fucking angry. I tried. I tried so hard to make things work. And he made no sense. I just wish I didn’t still care about him. I shouldn’t, but I do. I’m pretty sure Lina came to my apartment a few times looking for me. I never answered. How could I look at her and tell her that I haven’t left because of some dumb boy, meanwhile she basically had a broken fucking hip and was still getting out. She should be traumatized. Lina’s so strong. She’s stronger than she knows. I hope one day she realizes it. I know I called them dumbasses, but I love them all. Everyone I’ve met here. They’re all so amazing. Okay, well not all of them. Most of them. Even Brett. If I wasn’t such a mess I’d go and tell them all how thankful I am for them. I don’t want them to see me like this. They’ll just yell at me for not taking care of myself and throw away my pills and make me eat. It’s not even just stress anymore. Maybe I shouldn’t have set foot on this island. It’s like, since the day I came everything is trying to push me down and kill me. The raiders. The mercs. The Four. The biters. I mean for fuck’s sakes, at least all you had out there was some biters and the occasional raider. In here, your life is threatened every fucking time you go outside. And if you work at the Dollhouse it’s like you’re even MORE threatened. Fuck it. Maybe I’ll leave. I don’t know if I could. Just leaving Lina and everyone else behind like that without a word? No. It’d hurt too much. I’d feel too shitty. I’ll get my shit together. One day.
