"𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥."
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In the year of 2734, no one suspected that the dead would rule the world.
With millions infected after the first...
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I couldn't just drop it.
If they hid something, I had to know. What was behind those doors? Another gigantic office Commander has? Maybe Infected? Or...dead bodies?
I shuddered thinking about the possibilities. I turned over the page of my journal, beginning with the date like I always did.
September 15th, 2734
My hand stopped moving, and I looked up, staring into nothing. Has it really been that long? More than two months of me being at Ground Zero. More than five months of the outbreak.
I thought time was going to slow down. Move in a leisurely and merciless way. But ever since I became a trainer; ever since Jake became my...boyfriend; time wasn't as painful.
I guess I have a boyfriend now. It's crazy to admit it. I wonder how my family would react. My sisters would talk about it constantly, making me regret ever telling them anything.
The word seems weird.
I've never said it outloud and I don't think I ever will. "Boyfriend" just seems too normal. Odd for this world.
But I know Jake and I are happy and the labels don't change that. If anything about me is stable, it is the part that feels for him.
"Whatcha writing here?"
Jake sneaked up behind me, grabbing the journal. I stood up, the chair screeching in the process.
"Stop," I yelled, trying to get it away from him. He couldn't read that. It was embarrassing. It was private.
He outstretched his hand as high as he could, positioning the journal to an angle that he could easily read the page I wrote. I grabbed his arm, desperately trying to pull it down. Gritting my teeth, I jumped, managing to take the damned thing away from him. I closed it, putting it under my pillow.
"You can't do that," I stated, sitting on the bed. My foot tapped the floor, as I glared at the blonde haired boy in front of me.
His hands rose in defense, "You took it before I could read it."
"That's private," I continued, my pale face red in embarrassment. I couldn't believe he was close to reading the page directed to him.
"I didn't know you kept a journal." He sat on the bed next to me, adding, "So do I."
His statement shocked me. He did? I blinked a few times before responding, "I started when the outbreak began in April. There's too many things that have occurred ever since...I guess I want to remember them all."
He nodded, understanding of what I was saying, "I don't want to forget everything that's happening either...memories are too important."
Silence swept over us. I wondered if other people felt the need to remember everything like Jake and me. Did they want to remember getting kicked out of their homes by the creatures of the dead? Did they want to remember the starvation and the thirst as they moved to get to the safe haven in Texas. Did they want to remember the fear, the pain, the misery?
