Dear Diary: Zombie Apocalypse – Entry One

Dear Diary,

Today was a weird day. Everything seemed to be normal until… well, let me start at the beginning.

My name is Nathan Moore. I’m just your average, run-of-the-mill introvert. I live in a small, one-bedroom apartment by myself. I’ve never been much of a social person, I’ve only ever had one friend. His name is Jason Botch. We met in high school. Up until he and I had become friends, I had never really spoken to anyone. I mostly just kept to myself.

But just because I don’t talk to anyone, doesn’t mean I don’t observe people. I do. All the time. I notice the small details of people’s body language, the way they act and how what they do determines what they really mean when they lie. That’s one thing I’m definitely good at: I can tell when people are lying.

Anyway, I had noticed Jason’s odd behaviour and it was the first time I was actually intrigued by another human being. I had wanted to learn more about him and why he seemed to fidget when he was telling the truth. That’s one thing about Jason, he never lies. Or if he does, he’s certainly better at it than every other human in the world.

So why am I writing in a diary? Or…journal? Well, my therapist recommends it. Oh yeah, that’s right I’m seeing a therapist. I was kind of cornered into it by my mom who thinks this guy has the magical touch to “cure” my social awkwardness. The therapist recommended that I keep a diary. He seems to think that by doing so, it’ll help me put my thoughts down into words and by keeping it informal (like I’m talking to somebody) it’ll help me to talk to people and be more open or some shit. I don’t really know. I think it’s kind of…fruity.

But alas, here I am. I’m writing and…I don’t really feel better. But something weird did happen that I actually kind of want to talk about.

It happened earlier today when I was leaving the therapist’s office. I was walking down the street (oh yeah, I don’t drive, that’s another thing I feel I should mention) and I tried to call over a taxi but this guy came out of nowhere screaming bloody murder. He shoved me out of the way, actually knocking me to the ground. He then took a minute to stop and look at me.

He stared at me with his wide, brown eyes as if trying to decide if he should kill me. (Spoiler alert: he didn’t, in case you’re wondering.) As he looked at me and I looked at him, there was a weird sort of growling sound that came from somewhere to the right of me. He looked over at the sound and then back at me and said, “Run!” Then he took off.

As if that wasn’t weird enough, when I did get up to call the taxi over, the taxi driver sped up instead of stopping to let me in. Like, he was going full throttle or something. At that point he hit the screaming man with his car, but kept going.

The guy he hit flew up in the air, nearly fifty feet before falling back on the ground in one horrendous blood splatter. I pulled out my phone to call the cops but…the guy got up. He looked awful, but he got up. I don’t think he survived, though. The guy’s neck was broken, but he cracked it back into place. He looked directly at me as I dropped my phone on the ground. He had piercing white eyes, no pupils or irises or anything. The brown was gone and replaced with pure white. He then turned away and started limping as he also had one broken leg. People around me were watching him, too. So I know I’m not crazy… or am I?

What kind of drugs did the therapist give me? Oh yeah, it’s something called “Zoloft”. The therapist claims it’ll treat what he diagnosed as “social phobia”. It’s not that I’m afraid of people or social situations, it’s that people bore me. I find animals to be much more interesting…and this…thing. Whatever this guy turned into has really started to fascinate me.

The more I think about it, the more I want to study this. I keep reliving the scene over and over again in my head. What was that growling sound? It didn’t sound like a dog or a wolf or…hell, I don’t know. But it also didn’t sound human. It’s hard to explain. I keep trying to recreate it as I write this, but it doesn’t work and I think my neighbours are starting to question my sanity. Oh, hell, I’m starting to question my sanity. Hallucinations isn’t even an actual side effect of this drug.

…I should probably talk to my therapist about this. But even my therapist is extremely dull. All he says is, “And how does that make you feel?”

“My mother worries too much.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Annoyed.”

“And why does it make you feel that way?”

“Because I just wish she would stay out of my life.”

“And why is that?”

Like, for fuck’s sake. Enough with the third degree. What is this some kind of interrogation?

I’m just rambling now, but my therapist said to put anything and everything in this diary, even if it seems like I’m just rambling, so that’s what I’m doing.

I don’t even know what happened with that white-eyed man. He just kind of stumbled away as people stared at him from the sidewalk. He didn’t really attack anyone that I saw. A part of me really wanted to follow him, and that same part of me is kicking the rest of me for not. I wonder if this will be on the news. If this isn’t considered “breaking news” I don’t know what is.

“This just in: Man survives fifty foot fall after being struck by a speeding taxi.” The headlines write themselves.

The rest of the day seemed pretty normal…at least, normal compared to that. I wonder if this is a one time occurrence or if this is the start of something exciting.

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