This is a part of my attempt at a diary style story
They say people keep journals because they want someone to remember them when they’re gone. I’m going to keep this to keep myself from going insane. I swear to Christ, I’m starting to hear voices in my head and they’re arguing with themselves. Thankfully I found this satchel full of blank books, fancy pens and even some ink. Maybe they belonged to a writer or maybe someone with a love of blank books, who knows. At the very least, I’ll have something to wipe with.
One of the many things I truly miss is the feel of soft tissue on my ass. If I knew I’d spend my days using leaves and a phone book as shit paper, I would have made sure to have a stockpile of Charmin’s today. Then again, who knew the end of mankind was just around the corner? I was barely a year into living on my own, when it all went tits up.
I was doing the usual weekend stuff; playing games and watching movies and eating tons and tons of junk food. I think it goes without saying that I had nothing near to a social life. I have to admit that at that point, I hadn’t had a girlfriend for years. It seems trivial today, but back then, being single at my age was something of a social stigma.
Now here I sit; writing down my past in a book, sitting in an abandoned subway station, like some old man writing his memoir. Hell, maybe it is. Maybe this will survive and years from now someone will find this and make it a best-seller. If best-sellers are still around. You never know, this might even be the only recorded history left for archaeologists to dig up. If archaeologists are still around too.
I guess if I’m the last voice of the old world, I should probably start at the beginning.
Like I said, I was just pissing around in my apartment and then BLAMMO! huge explosion. I don’t know where it happened, but by the time the shock wave reached me it tore through the neighborhood so hard it blew out everybody’s windows, knocked out anything electrical and even turned over a cars.
I am not embarrassed to say that, after everything calmed down, I discovered I shit myself; I’m certain most of us did. I thought there was a terrorist attack or maybe the nuclear plant had some kind of meltdown. I think I spent hours just sitting and waiting for something to happen, but nothing did and that’s how it was for a long time.
I don’t know how many days I sat in my apartment; praying that someone would do something to bring back some semblance of order. More than anything, I wanted my mother. I don’t know for sure, but I think I may have actually cried for her; like a damn baby.
I think I’m done for know. I might start blubbering any minute.
It’s been a couple days since I wrote in this thing and I guess I should continue. Don’t want to leave those archaeologists wondering what happened.
When my stash of snacks and canned food started to run short, I decided I had to leave. I guess I wasn’t the only one, because after loading up a couple bags with food and some bottles of water, I walked onto the street to find people traveling in droves. Everyone was headed for hospitals and schools; probably hoping to find some shelters and answers.
I don’t know what exactly went through my head, but I found myself going the other way than everyone else. I never did like people and tended to be a loner; mostly from awkwardness. Instead of going deeper into the city, I left it. My Aunt and Uncle lived out in the country and even though I knew it would be a hell of a hike, it became my destination.
Even though my decision stemmed from my anti-social habits, it ended up saving my life.
After three days straight of shuffling away from the city, I arrived at my Aunt and Uncle’s, with sore and blistered feet. I was happy at first; I’d walked longer than I ever had in my entire life and made it without getting lost once. I was as giddy as a kid in a candy store.
So imagine my disappointment, when I walked around back to enter and saw that their camper was gone. My Uncle took that thing everywhere; even to my Great-Aunt Dollie’s funeral. I thought I’d get lucky and my Aunt would be home, but after knocking for a minute straight, it was obvious they left together.
Thankfully they never left the place locked; a perk of living out in the middle of nowhere. When I walked in, it was like heaven. I could hear the low rumble of their old fridge. Their place wasn’t affected like the city was. Probably because they lived so far away. I found myself diving into the fridge and made myself some sandwiches, grabbed a two-liter bottle of soda and sat myself down in my Uncle’s recliner. I guzzled the soda and grabbed the remote; ready for some normalcy and hopefully an answer or two.
I got my answer and wished I never asked the question.
The first thing I saw were the smoldering remains of what was once New York City. Everything was gone and I mean everything. The only thing left was a crater and a scorch-ring at least fifty miles long surrounding it.
It wasn’t just New York. Almost every major city and the entire East Coast were nothing but craters and smoldering ash. I was right. We were attacked, but not by terrorists or some other foreign power. We were attacked by aliens.
I know aliens may be part of everyday life for you, but they were once considered something out of science fiction or some crazy man’s ramblings. They were supposed to be an impossibility.
Every news anchor I watched knew as much as I did, but from what they could gather, we were bombarded from space. The bastards didn’t even bother entering the atmosphere; they just fired on us from as far away as they could. I know they scare the shit out of us, but they started this whole thing like pussies. I think they wanted to get rid of as many of us as they could, before setting foot on our planet for as little resistance as possible, but when they finally came and they came hard.
The first ships we saw
A week’s passed and I haven’t slept for almost two days. I heard some noises last time I was writing and had to find someplace to hide. The Grays have hunting parties that run through the old city ruins now and then; can’t afford to get caught with my pants down, because I just have to finish writing a sentence.
I’m hunkered down in the outskirts of the city, so I figured I’d write something down today, while things are quiet. Plus, I’m starting to find this stuff puts me at a sort of ease. So let’s get back to it.
When the Grays came down, it wasn’t like in the movies with giant ships slowly emerging through the clouds in an orange glow. The news stations showed footage of speeding metal blurs the size of Volkswagen Beetles; zooming overhead and mowing down everything on the ground with blue laser bullets or at least something that looked like bullets.
Even from where I was, I could see the smoke in the distance. The home I had left behind became a war zone and in a single day only a handful of people survived. That’s how it was throughout the entire US; these extermination squads zipping over populated areas and killing anything in sight. I knew it was only a matter of time before they made their way further out when the survivors started fleeing from the cities.
My Uncle was a bit of a gun nut, so I raided his shed for some weapons. Unfortunately, he took almost his whole arsenal with him. Knowing him, he packed up everything into the camper and took it all up into the mountains; definitely a hike I was not going to make.
He did leave behind a hunting rifle and his old colt; both with little ammo. Top that with my limited know-how of guns and my chances were looking bleak. So, like I did last time, I packed up food and drink and just started walking.
I’ll admit, the first couple weeks were the worst I’d ever had. After running out of food, I felt like I was starving almost immediately. My body just wasn’t use to not having food when I wanted it. One night it rained and I was just a sobbing mess; cold, wet and scared out of my mind. I’m surprised I survived and that was thanks to the very unaware deer I found at a stream. Considering I couldn’t make a fire and only had a sharp rock to cut it up, I did managed to eat; though it did make me sick for a while.
Speaking of which, it’s time for me to look for supper.