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The Journals

Teen Fiction

Carl writes daily to stay sane during the zombie apocalypse. These journals are in first-person of Carl's view. **The Journals should be updated every day unless something comes up in the authors daily life**

#apocolaypse #broken #carl #cripple #firstperson #home #homes #horror #journal #lovestory #painful #scary #shortchapters #spooky #thejournals #walkingdead #zombie #zombieapocalypse #zombies #zombiesurvival

Journal #3

7 1 0

by Wtrmeloon

by Wtrmeloon

Journal #3

Morning

This morning the sun was in my eyes again, like every morning. Sometimes I think that it's telling me to get out of my rusty old bed. I ate some canned sardines and rice as a last supper for me being here. The sardines were all the way in the back of the pantry. Almost like the old home owner didn't like them. It was a good last meal.

After breakfast

After I ate, I started packing my bag. All I'm bringing on my trip to the hideaway is a backpack. I want to keep it light so I can run faster, if need be. I packed some canned food, A sweater, A couple spare water bottles, Medication and tools I might need for later.

Mid-day

I got my compass out and started on my way. I headed south. There was a forest blocking my way, I knew that it would be infested with zombies but I had a baseball bat so I'd be fine. I'd seen a lot of walking dead episodes, I thought as I walked through. Around 12:30, I started eating saltine crackers, they were a bit stale but I could eat them. I didn't want to stop for a lunch break so I ate and walked.

Around 3:00

I made my way out of the forest and started walking on a highway with a map. If I kept at the pace I was going at, I'd get there by 6:00. Funny story, I was walking on the highway and tripped. It would have looked funny but not to me. I tripped on air. Good thing I brought bandages.

6:00–The destination

The place I was trying to reach, looked like a star in the dark. The only building lit up. It was surrounded with barbed wire and fence. A safe place for humans like me. When I first got there, they almost shot me because I was limping like a zombie. Stupid pothole. I had to go through some tests to make sure I wasn't infected or already a zombie.

Night

I'm writing in my journal tonight in a nice new safe bed. It smells nice and it feels warm here. In the hideaway, everyone is given a cubicle, it's a old office space. Where there's a cot and a wax candle. My candle is the only one still on. I hope I can make some friends here tomorrow.

I should go, before my writing wakes someone up.

Carl