Day 1. October 23, 2012, around 9:00 pm.
I guess Doomsday decided to come early this year. Either it couldn't wait a few more months or the Mayans extended their calendars to mess with our mind with the whole December of 2012 thing. I bet they had a great laugh about it.
My name is Shia, 18 years old. “Like the guy from Transformers and Even Stevens?” Yeah, like him. I'm whatever ethnicity you want me to be, and I can look whatever way you imagine me to. It doesn't matter now, anyways. You're either one of them or one of us. I found this old dirty notebook lying in the streets before it got really bad, and I've been writing in it with the hopes that whoever finds it after I'm gone will read it and know my story, before writing their own story for the next person. Yes, I've already accepted that I probably won't make it out of this alive. In case you're reading this after the fact, let me explain what the television reporters and radio personalities won't tell you. They didn't experience it firsthand like I did.
It all went bad about a week ago. The government had this genius idea of releasing a drug called Thytrizamine to New York, where I live, that was supposed to enhance motor sk**s and increase brain activity. Safe to say it didn't go as planned. The test patients that they experimented with didn't show any signs of aggression, and the brain waves did show increased activity. That's what they thought, anyways, so they opened it to the public, $50 per pill. It spread like wildfire. They would've made millions, probably billions of dollars if the stuff hadn't deteriorated the minds of whoever popped ‘em. You ever see that one movie “I Am Legend”? With Will Smith? Yeah? Then, you have a pretty good idea of what happened after everything went south. If you didn't see it, a disease spread in New York (hey, what a coincidence) that turned normal people into zombie-vampire things that destroyed everything and ate everything else. I think, anyways, it's been a while since I saw it. Those zombie things didn't like sunlight for some reason. I guess the vampire side. But these particular zombies that are here now could care less about sunlight, and Will Smith isn't here to help us with a cure. God, I miss TV.
We've (me and my younger brother) been taking shelter in this old Starbucks café for a few days, living off of cookies and whatever else we can find, and for the most part we're alive and unharmed. I'll check in tomorrow. Every day seems longer than the last. I hope they get shorter, and the next second I hope that they get longer, just so I'll have another day with my brother. Hope. I'm starting to use that word a lot now. I like it.
One more day of living, Shia.