The Last Entry.

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'... I hate what I was put through.
I hate what I had to see.
I hate that I had to run every single day just to have a chance at surviving.
I hate the silence.
I hate all the blood that I now have on my hands.
I hate that I had to watch people that I love die.
I hate having to set up camp somewhere new every night.
I hate the fear that's instilled in me.
I hate spending more time scavenging for food than I do eating.
I hate the blood... There's always so much blood.
I hate having to spend so much time waiting and watching.
I hate the nightmares.
I hate the fact that I have stolen and not given anything in return.
I hate how a gun has become such a necessity, just like a phone or wallet used to.
I hate all of them smells and how they're now imprinted in my brain.
I hate that I invade other people's homes, eat at their tables and slept in their beds.
I hate never feeling safe.
I hate seeing so many dead dismembered corpses on the daily.
I hate having no electricity and no clean running water.
I hate all of the scars and how they linger on my body, reminding me of what I've done.
I hate feeling so helpless.
I hate the ghost towns and cities, how empty they are and feel.
I hate having to sleep with a weapon by my side.
I hate not knowing what was going to happen next.
I hate always having to constantly look over my shoulder and watch my back.
I hate not knowing if I'm going to survive the day.
I hate the fact that everything I did, was just to survive.
I hate what I've done.
I hate that I miss them, every second of every damn day like they didn't just leave us here...

I'm over it. I'm so done. I'm tired. I have nothing left to give. I have nothing left to lose.

Because I am so done with being on the run...'

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