Entry One

In a world torn by those they call "The Fallen", it's a constant fight for survival. A single journal entry was recovered from the rubble of the crumbling civilisation.

The world is in ash. Settlements have fallen to nothing but rubble and debris. Of course, it wasn’t always this way. The land used to thrive, as did we, the people. We used to smile and laugh. Now, our mouths are set in hard lines through the black dust which covers our faces. Our clothes are in rags and our homes long gone. All seems so hopeless now. This darkness which consumes. Darkness which kills. Darkness that has conquered us all.

When I was just a little girl, my mother and father had told me tales of black mist which had taken villages and all those that lived there. Any who were so fortunate enough to survive were never the same again. The thick fog would infect them - turning them into warped forms of their original selves. Dark circles wrapped around their cold, soulless eyes. Their skin became a sickly yellowish pallor and beads of sweat set on their diseased skin. Even their hair became matted and thin, similar to a rabid animal’s would be. But that wasn’t all. They were also said to have fed off any and all meat - including humans - and being able to transmit this disease with a single bite to someone or blood to blood contact. I never believed these stories and I don’t think they did, either. They were purely fictional at the time. Now, they are as real as you and I.

We’ve lost so many over these past few years. Ever since the black smoke set in, making our world it’s own personal battleground. It’s been a fight for survival. I no longer have my parents like I did back then. They too have been consumed by this ravenous darkness, warped into those monsters. I know I can’t be far from joining them in their suffering and their hunger for mankind.

There used to be so many of us - the survivors. My mom and dad, our neighbours the O’Conners, our local doctor and his family, my best friend Sandy and her family, a kid who used to live at the end of my street - Cameron, and a young girl by the name of Julie are among those who were closest to us. Now, only Julie, Sandy, Cam and I remain. We’re only here by good fortune. Mere luck. It’s those who have fallen that have gotten us this far. We’re just trying to ensure that their sacrifices were not in vain. I’m afraid that that will be more difficult than I had first imagined.

Our “shelter” is simply what used to be someone’s house. An average sized 3-bedroom house with all that you’d expect it to have. It had collapsed along with the rest of civilisation but we’ve managed to fix it up somewhat so that it’s almost liveable. It works for us, anyway. But now, without our families or any adults to guide us, we just feel so desperately lost. Though this world has taught us to grow up fast, we’re still just a bunch of teenagers with no idea as to what the hell we’re doing.

Right now, Cam and Sandy are discussing what they think we should do. They’re the most rational and strategic of us so it makes sense, I suppose. Me, I’m far too easily swayed by my emotions, they say, and little Julie is much too young and passive for that sort of thing. So here I am, writing all this down. They told me to document everything that goes on here since apparently it’s all I’m really capable of except for venturing out into the wasteland on scavenging trips. I don’t blame them. I’m no fighter nor negotiator and I most certainly am not a leader. But that’s not the point. I’m writing all this because the two believe that if we don’t make it, at least someone needs to know what happened here if they ever happen upon this journal. I don’t like to think such morbid thoughts like that. I try to be more positive and have faith but even I am struggling now. I mean, I am writing all this down, aren’t I? So I guess even I’m losing faith. And believe me, I have my reasons.

Poor little Julie. She struggles more than any of us, that’s easy to see. She’s only just 13 and without her parents, she doesn’t know what to do. I know she’s scared - hell, we all are - but it isn’t something she can move past, it seems. I’ve heard her crying in her room when she thinks no one’s around. She tries to be so brave around us but it’s all just a facade. I can see right through it and what I see, it breaks my heart.

And then there’s Cam. He acts all tough and really, he holds us together. He leads us now that everyone’s gone. He does a pretty good job at it, too. Before this all happened, Cam was just some kid at the end of my street. I didn’t even know his name. Now, I follow his every command because I know he’s the most able of all of us. I don’t know what he used to do or what his life was like before we all got thrown into this mess but something tells me I really don’t want to know. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

And of course my best friend Sandy. She was such a sweet girl all those years ago but over time, she’s really hardened up. She’s tough as nails and doesn’t take anything from anyone - not even Cam. Still, I love her to pieces and she still looks out for me just like she used to. She always makes sure I’m fed well and watches my back when the two of us venture out for supplies. We always go in pairs, you know. It’s safest that way. And nine times out of ten, it’s Sandy and I. We try to make sure Julie hardly leaves the shelter and Cam, being as responsible as he is, always protects her and the shelter.

And of course there’s me. My name is Violet and I used to be a normal kid. Of course, we all were, weren’t we? I haven’t told this to anyone and I hope to God the others don't read this but I can’t keep it bottled up like this. I just need to get it out. I’m not clean. That probably sounds strange but what I mean is that I’m not pure. Not whole. You see, a couple days ago, Sandy and I were out scavenging when one of the Fallen - the name we gave to the infected - found us. As I’ve said, they have a particular taste for human flesh. They prefer it over all else. So when it saw us, it charged at us and took me to the ground. As soon as it had me pinned, it took a bite from my shoulder before Sandy was able to take it out. She didn’t see it bite me nor the wound because I was able to hide it beneath my shirt. I didn’t want her to know - to think of me differently. I knew she’d cast me out in an instant and I couldn’t let that happen. I was afraid. I guess a small part of me hoped I was special. That I won’t turn. I was so very wrong.

I can feel the infection tugging at me as I write this, taking over my body. Soon, I’ll be amongst the Fallen along with our late comrades, just ready to feast on the living and hopefully killed my them. I just have to let my friends know that they’ve been so good to me. So much better than I deserve. Then, I’ll wait until nightfall and then I’ll make my escape, leaving them all behind me. They won’t be able to stop me that way. I still refuse to tell them of my affliction. I don’t want them to remember me as another one down. I don’t want them to know of the monster I am destined to become.

But if any of you happen to read this, just know that I am so, so sorry.

V.

Author's Note

Feel free to critique on absolutely anything and everything! I really appreciate the feedback and would like to grow as a writer so go nuts :)