Mmmk well I get mah braces today gonk domokun
So here's my short story off the summer checklist:
A white flash blinded all who saw it. Stripped of all worldy possesions and thrown about like a sack of potatoes. This is the fate of all survivors. Though they won't be for long...
Day 1:
I must be dead, that's the only explanation possible. My skin is rubbed raw from the harsh showers, I can barley see, and all around me are the mere skelletons of family and friends.Though if I am dead, why is it so painful? Death has no feeling, no mass, no pain. I suppose I am alive for the main reason of chronicling what little is left after the epidemic on this notepad lying amdist the heaps of flesh. They have already seperated us by those showing symptoms, and those appearing clean. Fourtunatley no boils have appeard on my skin, so I am safe for now. I must sleep, for it is my only refuge from the above ground inferno.
Day 2:
I have awoken to find a large gash in my leg and an inceisor loged in the wound. My sight has improved suffeciantley, but I wish it had not. In a few short hours a group of frightend weaklings has transformed into canniballistic savages. Already, near half the population has been breaking out in cherry-red boil and gone stark-raving mad. They're hauled away in carts by men in rubber suits and masks, much to screaming protests by victims and family alike. Rumors spread that they're burned while still alive, and others state they're thrown into gas chambers. Even more inhumane and grotesque fates are discussed, much to horrid to put into words. I fear my wound will become infected. Already I can feel my skin burn. Truly more horrific is the fact I can hardly distinguish my once loved peers. Now, they are just shapes of mass and potential competitors. I'll be next, I know it. A final night of rest is my last gift in this harsh prison.
Day 3:
My flesh is broken out in boils and my tempurature rages high above the norm. I somehow managed to escape from the quarentine into an abndoned alleway littered with monsterous dogs and rapid racoons. They're all out to get me, I swear. A chariot! A glowing beatiful chariot pulled by winged stallions! Oh glorious glorious day, I've been saved! What's this? They're loading those foul beasts onto the cart! I shall not ride with such monsters and that must be known. I shall scream at the top of my lungs! It will work it must. I think...I think they're here to take me away...I must leave....
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