It's been 4 days since I last wrote in my journal. It seem meaningless to keep writing. It's not like anyone is going to read this. Because No one is left. I've left the motel and kept on searching only finding more empty safe rooms with no clues and abandoned city's with no infected. it's also started to get cold and dark all the time and I'm becoming fearful not only of the infected but of other survivors and I should not rely on other people to protect me and even if they DID try, I would probably end up killing them, like I did the family at the Late 8 Motel. Oh by the way I killed the son and father. They were a huge annoyance. They would come crying to me everyday about there mother and siblings. So I ended their misery.
Not much to say other that I'm now in a city that seems to be under construction and somewhat neglected. There is a tattoo shop near a club. I'm kinda resting on the pool tables as I write this.. and listening to the midnight riders on the jukebox in the far left corner.
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It's been a few hours since I put the journal down and went to get some grub. There is only alcohol in a building across from this huge dug out hole that looks like it was at one point a ******** ROAD. But anyway, in that building there was some supplies like a health kit, some pills two pistols and bullets. so I brought them back along with some Jack Daniels, Sour Puss and A few Breezers.
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It's morning and I have a huge hangover. I feel like a teenager again. Drinking, waking up in a bar and writing in my journal about it. A sad day it's going to be...
So I leave the weapons and head down to the place that had booze and go upstairs, there are a few beds and dressers, a suitcase filled with pistols and money and some canned goods on the top floor.
I ate, took a nap and realized my toes and fingers are starting to feel frozen. I need to get warmer clothes. Especially since it's snowing lightly outside.
I find clothing in the wardrobes but they are all to bright and would make me stand out. I need it to be black and warm. I search and search but all I found was that one outfit. until I found this plank of wood going across to the building beside it.
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I got a black trench coat, thick black leggings, and some sweet Converse low-tops.
Oh and I also found something interesting. A TANK. Oh yeah a f**cking tank.
Huge son of a b***h had this limp kid in it's hands. The child looked to be about 13 years old. and He was just dragging it along, like a stuffed toy. and the kids face. I can never forget it. eyes wide open, mouth pouring blood, nose almost falling off. What happened to this child. just.. thinking about it makes me cry.
A witch would have killed this poor child in a less sadistic manner. I hate this world. and Everything and Everyone in it. Where was this child's parents? or someone to protect him? Will nobody help him? Maybe I will just have to march right over to that tank and show it whos boss?
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It didn't work. I almost didn't get out alive. Makes me wonder why the tank is so.. attached. Maybe.. that was his son? Who knows. I'm going to try and find another health kid since I used this one and after that I think I might as well stalk the tank. not like I'm going to find father anytime soon.
KarmaBanshee Community Member 
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