Timothy Alan - Shia's Log: Day 14 lyrics

Day 14. November 5, 2012. 10:23 pm. I finally had the nightmare I was expecting to have. It happened later than I thought. I'm not sure if that means that I'm going crazy or if I'm becoming okay with… what happened. I hope I'm not. That would put me that much further away from being human. Humans feel remorse for their actions. They feel guilty after doing something they shouldn't have done. Once that nagging little voice whispering what's right and what's wrong is gone, you've crossed over to the insane side. But that's the thing. What I did needed to be done. It wasn't out of selfishness or jealousy. It was out of respect. I respected her enough to not throw her outside and let her fend for herself in a dangerous world. Who knows what horrendous things would have happened to her out there. I respected her enough to not do anything violent and cold-hearted but instead quick and painless. I've been thinking this so much lately I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince myself or if I'm being sincere. I believe I'm being sincere. I hope I am. I really, really hope. The nightmare came and I welcomed it with opened arms. There I was, sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by green plastic bags. I kept hearing a knock on the freezer door, but I pushed it away as my imagination. It wasn't. It just kept knocking, over and over again, echoing in my head. I finally got up and pulled the door open. Nothing. Emptiness. I wasn't sure whether to let out a sigh of relief or a scream of terror. “It was all a dream,” I kept telling myself. “Of course she isn't in here. Why would she be? She's right here with Elliot.” An unfamiliar voice said, “Oh, yeah? Hey, where is Elliot, anyway?” That's when the panic hit me like a bug on a windshield. I wouldn't be surprised if I was actually holding my breath in real life. The cans were gone, too, and my bookbag was missing. I ran to the front, swung open the door, and gasped so hard I almost lost consciousness. There was Elliot and Dana, alive and well, walking away hand-in-hand in the evening sunlight. Peace. But that didn't last long. Hundreds of Thy-Trips came from every direction, roaring gibberish. “RUN!” I screamed, but no voice came out. Why don't they notice them coming? Are they so distracted with each other that they can't see they're in danger? I ran outside as fast as lightning, pushing past all of the flesh-eating zombies in my way to get to my brother. It wasn't enough. I ran the equivalent of maybe half a mile chasing after them, but I never got any closer. “You monsters!” I yelled at the Thy-Trips, who were forming a circle and taking turns nibbling at my brother and Dana. One turned around and looked at me. “Monsters? We're the monsters?” he asked. “At least our malfunctioning brains are the reason for our murder. What's yours?” I tried to shout, to defend myself, but my vocal cords betrayed me. “I thought so,” he responded after my silence. “We're not the monsters here, Shia. Compared to you… heh… well, we're the humans.” Then it was over. I deserved it. I didn't fight it or wish for it to end. I embraced it, I took the blows, and when my distressed mind stopped flashing the images of horror before my sleeping eyes, I awoke in a cold sweat. I wanted that nightmare. Deep down I wanted to feel guilty. At least guilt meant I was still human. I'm not a monster, I swear… I'm not. But what am I, then? What makes me more conscious than they are…? Let the nightmares continue, Shia.