Cheezits_AreYUMMY
Dear Journal, It's nearing the one hundredth day of our survival. Not sure how long we'll make it but I know as long as were together, we'll be ok. We came across a clean building today, not sure how long it's been deserted but it was well kept. Goodnight. Sydney.
I heard a groan as I closed my Journal, rolling my eyes I turn my head to see Sam staring at me. "What shithead." I snarl, as he scoffs. "Still writing in that dumb-ass journal?" I just nod as he makes his way closer. Tilting his head to study the cover of it. My name engraved into the leather. "Whatever" He chuckles, walking over to as dimly lit window.
I met Sam when we were kids, we'd ride our bikes in the neighbourhood together, everyday like clockwork until the sirens went off. My mom was watching us that day, she practically sprinted out the door hollering like a psychopath. She kept us alive as the world turned to shit. Now she's buried at some place we used to call home. Escaping the dead as been like a fight through hell. Sam always likes to tell me it's just getting started, but it's been about five years since the first outbreak started. Now we have no means of Radio, Electricity, or Running Water.. It's like the world just shut down. I knew the Jones twins were on to something when they did all of that studying for the end of the world, like how to fix up solar panels, or start a fire without.. well, fire starter. Just wish we could find them now.
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