The 79th Year

Chapter 1: Dad It's Me Carter.

February 16th, 2092

I tossed my great aunt's journal on my bed as I finished the last page, yet there were so many empty pages yet to be filled. I've read her journal over and over trying to find the possible theories, after learning that she, herself, caught the disease now named PS-12, which stands for Paranormal Schizophrenia 12.

We've learned that to survive from the PS-12, we must kill the ones who have it. There is no way out. You fend for youself and your loved ones, until your loved ones have been taken over.

Simply leaving your home is a risk. If you were to be exposed to the PS-12, it could ruin your chances of living. Being exposed meant feeling the breath against your neck, before they sink their teeth inside your neck. Through this process, the ghosts travel thoughout their body and to ours. Within seconds, you would have the PS-12. The demons inside you scream at you...to bite someone's neck. They won't stop screaming. Not until they feel pleasure. But, when they feel pleasure, they go insane, looking for the same feeling they felt the first time. It's like a drug to feed off of others lives. It's like Herorine, in some sense. This is what the PS-12 will do to you.

It's best if you just don't go outside.

But we have to go outside if we want the items to help us surrive. We need to gather food, and water, and other personal items. The stores have been abbandoned, left for us to break in, and collect all our things. Often, I hardly see anyone else inside. If I do, they stop mid-tracks, and look at me like they are a dear facing the headlights of a transport truck, then they would drop everything, and run. It was only my instinct to collect what they dropped and run off to my home.

This was our routine. Steal for survival, kill for survival. There were no rules.

Today, my job is to go to the gas station across the block and find any sanitary products. Everytime I left the house, I'd bring my pistol, and a knife. You often never find me without those in my bag, or attached to my waist.

I tied my hair into a high pony-tail, and pulled my worn-out jacket over my shoulders. I bit my lip as I looked into the shattered mirror. Another day in hell. Another day fighting.

My mom walked to me, her sad eyes looking into mine. She smiled slightly at me, and her lips trembled as she tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear.

"Thank you, darling." She whispered under her breath. I nodded, trying not to make eye contact with her. Instead, I looked at her shoulder. Her bones unhealthily showed. She was litterally skin and bones. She stopped eating again.

"I'm sorry you had to be born in a world like this, Carter," She muttered, resting her hand on my shoulder. I took her hand and held it.

"Mom, there was nothing you could do."

I could already tell that she was loosing breath just standing here, talking to me. I licked my dry lips before looking her in the eyes again.

"I love you. You need to lay down. I'll be back, I promise." I say, kissing her forehead, then helping her back to bed.

~~

I found my way outside. The clouds were grey once again. The sky wasn't blue, like I imgained it would be. Everything, for that matter, was a shade of black and brown. Those were the colours that I knew. The colours I grew up with.

I hid behind the bush of twigs, and peeked out for anyone who had the same idea as I do. The coast was clear.

It was a matter of seconds until I ran. I ran straight to the gas station, and smashed open a window on the side. Glass cracked, and fell to the ground. I was careful not to cut myself as I stepped inside the window. Once I was in, I ducked, and looked around.

Crack.

There was someone here.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

My neck snapped in the direction where the noise came from. Around the corner, there was a man. A tall, scrawny man, dressed in rags. He limped as he walked, and when I saw his face, I immdiately knew who it was.

Dad.

I haven't seen him in so long. I couldn't believe my eyes. I stood up excitedly, ready to race over to him to hug him. Mom thought he was dead! Thats why she hasn't been eating. In this moment, everything would be better. I had a sense of hope that we'd all survive as a family! I found my dad...or he found us. Either way, I knew everything would be better.

We'd be safe at last.

But this moment ended when I smiled at him, and he didn't smile back. Instead, his eyes grew bigger as he looked at me. Instead, he limped over in my direction, with a smirk across his ace. He held his hands out, as if he was ready to strangle me.

"Daddy..." I muttered. "It's me, Carter."

"I'm not alone in here," He says. "Help me."

He repeated these words until I realized...He has PS-12.

He was trapped amongst his demons.

I almost fell to the floor in tears, as I knew what he meant by 'Help Me'.

And so, I grabbed my knife.