Life has no meaning. At least not for me. Not anyone I know. Not anyone I used to know. Before we all landed in this hellish waste land. Before they all turned, and left me here. Alone. Broken. I may be the only one left on this place they used to call earth. It is now divided up into four unequal parts. Those parts are called the forgotten, the forbidden, the forgiven, and the forsaken. These parts made up together are called the revision, the new vision of earth. Some say it was the wrath of God, others say it has been coming for us. I believe we did deserve this. But why me. Why me out of everyone to survive. Anyway momentarily I am in the forsaken. The forsaken is the largest of the four parts. The forgiven is where everyone (if anyone is still alive) is or wants to be. It isbthe smallest, yet safest of the four parts. The forgotten has no life. Not the zoms, or humans. If tales are true there are demons that haunt you there. The forbidden is the worst. Many signs have read that zoms there are three times the size, strength, and speed then they are here. I will never know until I reach there, and reach the forgiven. All I know though is that my name is Matt Neeson.
