[ ZONE 1: OBJECTIVE 4 ]
She snorted at the pen and notepad before her, not entirely sure what it is she ought to write. Where she ought to start. What she ought to include. Life since day zero had been...bleak...for all of them, and Mel wasn't entirely certain she liked the idea of having it all chronicled as a solid memory. If they ever got out of there, she sort of wanted to look back and think that it was all just a dream. With a sigh and brief twirl of her pen, though, she finally got to writing.
Quote:
You guys want the short or long version? I can give you both I guess. Short version? Life has basically sucked. I don't know where my family is, I don't know where any of my friends are, and I don't have the basic comforts we're all pretty much used to. And I don't have Netflix, and I miss Criminal Minds. Seriously, if any of those actors are dead now I'm gonna like...go ballistic once this is all over. Actually, if any of the actors on my shows are gone I'm gonna be really, really pissed about it. And everyone'll know.
Long version? Hm...
Well, I spent day zero alone for the most part. All the screaming and chaos sort of happened while I was a few episodes into marathoning, you guessed it, Criminal Minds. I looked outside and saw it all so I took the elevator downstairs and I saw one of those things leaning over a bloody corpse--eating maybe, I don't know--and when it turned to look at me I slammed the button for my floor and the door close button so hard I think I broke it. Once I was back upstairs I holed up in my room until someone knocked. It was maybe a few days later. I'd carefully rationed out my food to last me more than a few days, but by the time the person had knocked I'd gone through most of it out of nervousness.
I gave the rest of it over when I learned about the people that made my building their homebase though, and started helping out with securing the place. Leadership took over and I followed along with it because I didn't know what to do about the whole thing. Better safe in numbers anyway. Slowly we established our base and life was kind of boring, I guess. I didn't worry so much for my safety inside the building and there was a point where it actually started feeling mundane. We were assigned tasks to gather food and supplies, to keep the building secure, etc. Things got routine...but honestly I don't ever want to get used to this life.
Even if it means restarting with a new life when this is all over, I'd rather do that than live in fear that someone I know and have come to care for is off getting killed or being turned into one of those things.
Long version? Hm...
Well, I spent day zero alone for the most part. All the screaming and chaos sort of happened while I was a few episodes into marathoning, you guessed it, Criminal Minds. I looked outside and saw it all so I took the elevator downstairs and I saw one of those things leaning over a bloody corpse--eating maybe, I don't know--and when it turned to look at me I slammed the button for my floor and the door close button so hard I think I broke it. Once I was back upstairs I holed up in my room until someone knocked. It was maybe a few days later. I'd carefully rationed out my food to last me more than a few days, but by the time the person had knocked I'd gone through most of it out of nervousness.
I gave the rest of it over when I learned about the people that made my building their homebase though, and started helping out with securing the place. Leadership took over and I followed along with it because I didn't know what to do about the whole thing. Better safe in numbers anyway. Slowly we established our base and life was kind of boring, I guess. I didn't worry so much for my safety inside the building and there was a point where it actually started feeling mundane. We were assigned tasks to gather food and supplies, to keep the building secure, etc. Things got routine...but honestly I don't ever want to get used to this life.
Even if it means restarting with a new life when this is all over, I'd rather do that than live in fear that someone I know and have come to care for is off getting killed or being turned into one of those things.
She stopped writing and read over what she had so far and was kind of satisfied with it. Somehow it still felt a little lacking, though.
Quote:
I'm still kind of holding on to the flimsy hope of being rescued. I know the chances are slim to none and I'm probably just being stupid about it, but I refuse to believe that I'm gonna die in a world as messed up as the one we're in now. Sometimes it makes the difference between dying and surviving, right? And I've already made it this far, no way in hell I'm dying anytime soon.
Mel stopped again to read the summary of her life in the past thirty days. Really it sounded like a note to someone losing hope to try and buoy their spirits again, but the big chunk in the middle was probably enough to satisfy the bandits' curiosity about other people's lives up to this point. She tore the single sheet she wrote on and folded it up, then tucked it away in her bag before making her way out to pass it along to those who were asking for it.
