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18.06.2015
It has been approximately 21 hours since the monster apocalypse outbreak in Wakefield, Massachusetts USA. I (Quint Baker) have made it to my home safely. I have escaped with minor injuries, but was encountered with a multitude of other complications.
Firstly, when I had arrived at my home, I was immediately met with the undead circling my front yard. It was quite a hassle to get around the familiar faces of my neighbors; once welcoming, now seeking out for fresh brains from the living. It's quite a disturbing image.
Once I had entered my home, I had an unfortunate run in with another familiar face. You see, my parents had hired a babysitter for me for the time that they were overseas, and it seems like she was one of the first to get zombified when the outbreak happened.
Whilst I didn't have much of an emotional attachment to her, the gut in my abdomen didn't have the best feeling seeing her jaw almost hanging off her face.
With a bit of maneuvering (and sheer luck), I was able to trap her in my bedroom closet, which has now been barricaded with heavy cardboard boxes. It was not an easy feat, but I congratulate myself for being able to do such a thing with minimal injuries.
Currently, every half an hour, I pull and shut the curtain just to inspect the area around my neighborhood. It's been quite repetitive so far; zombies, monsters, alarms, screaming — not something I regularly look forward to.
The emergency alarm system (or EAS) had stopped airing shortly after half an hour, and I was currently listening to the news station on an old radio, just to keep up with what was going on.
From what I have gathered so far, they were going to be sending out emergency vehicles to find any remaining survivors in the city. I should be hopeful about that information, but with the state of everything that I've witnessed so far, I shouldn't have such high standards.
What I should be awaiting, however, is a sign from Jack Sullivan, my best (and only) friend. We had promised each other to stay in touch through our walkie-talkies when the outbreak had first started.
Yes. Walkie-talkies. I had bought a pair of them a while back to communicate with Jack outside of school, since my parents were of the firm belief that mobile phones were going to rot my brain from the inside out.
Quite silly, I know.
But I suppose it would be a much better source of communication in these perilous times. Only a short hour or so after I've come back to my home, the electricity was wiped out throughout the entire town. No lights, no fans, nothing.
I can't say I've had a huge attachment to electronic devices, but it does suck knowing that my console doesn't serve much purpose anymore.
Anyways, I should be expecting a call from Jack as soon as he's found proper shelter. I have faith in him, I just hope that he will be able to survive as best as he could on his own.
Much like myself. I need to learn how to survive and prepare for any future endeavours that are about to be thrown my way. It's quite good that I am well equipped with the skill of machinery, it could serve a good bit of purpose.
I've had plenty dismiss my intellect and machinery before, especially in school. I wonder where those people are now during this time? Knowing some of them…I have many doubts they would survive such an event.
Not saying that I would wish such ill will on a person; not in my nature to do so.
Right now, all I'm hearing are zombies groaning, monsters roaring and destroying, people screaming, cars blaring, airplanes flying throughout the state.
I think it's starting to occur to me how serious this matter really is.
The world really…ended.
This isn't just some weird lucid dream I'm conjuring up for the sake of writing into this journal. Nope. It's really happening.
And oddly, I don't exactly know how to feel.
Scared? Positively. Worried? Absolutely. Feeling like I'm about to choke and roll all over the floor like a madman? Likely.
But a definite feeling? I don't have an answer. And that…that worries me. More than I can physically describe.
I always liked having answers to things. I enjoyed facing problems and finding answers to problems, and even creating solutions – that's what I do. That's my speciality.
But this…this is a problem that I never thought, not in this lifetime or the next, that I would ever face…and at such a prime age, it really boggles me.
How am I supposed to survive the end of the world when I'm not even old enough to stay home without supervision for a few hours??
The drastic change of this event is kind of…what's the word? Ridiculous? Yes, that would cut it.
I have so much to organise, and a lot of responsibilities fall on my hands now. I just have to adapt, because whether I like it or not; I have to survive.
And, just to be clear, I DO NOT like this. Not one bit.
But I have to move on, it's what a survivor would do, like…think of Scooby Doo? Yeah, this is kind of like Scooby Doo, with all the monsters and junk if you believe it enough.
I could be just like Fred!
Or Velma. Jack has always said if I would be anyone in Scooby Doo, I would be Velma, and he would be Fred.
If I'm going to be very honest, Jack is way more of a Shaggy, or a Scooby, depending.
Now this just has me thinking about the old DVD tapes of Scooby Doo. I have many doubts that they survived the aftermath of the apocalypse, but if they somehow did, I guess I can keep them as collectibles for the near future to watch over.
Movie marathon? Yes. By myself? Not that fun. I would have to wait for Jack (who is still hopefully alive by my predictions).
The sun seems to be setting now. I can only see so much whilst trying to hide from gigantic, beastly monsters who are destroying everything in their path. A few of them have peeked eyes in my direction, but I was fortunate enough to not be found…yet.
They seem to be coming in all sorts of variants, and it intrigues me quite a bit. I hope I get to at least make some studies on them whilst they're here.
But for now, I should get myself some sleep…or at least, as much sleep as I can with the apocalypse happening outside.
Take care. Will write again soon.
-Quint Baker
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