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Dear diary,

Today is April 17,2008, my name is Athena in case I forget my name when I get oder and read my diary, I just turned 12 a few days ago. I was expecting my dad to call me on my birthday, but another year and I didn’t get a call from him again. I called him right before I started to write this diary, he didn’t answer once again, he ignored my call. I always tell my self maybe he is busy working, or is sleeping, I just make things up in my head and try to believe them because it hurts knowing the truth that he is actually ignoring my calls. I can memorize the operating lady that says “I’m sorry but the person that you are trying to reach is not available at this moment please leave a message after the beat” I don’t leave messages no more to my dad because he never receives them he says, I don’t think he knows I’m 12 years old or when is my birthday, because i think he still thinks that I’m that 8 year old girl that use to call him everyday and leave a message to him and then he use to call me back once in two weeks, I always asked him about the message I left him, he says he never gets them, but now I know he does. He lies to me. I always seen my friends in school with their dads playing on the swings, and their dads pushing them. Yesterday I sat on the swings while waiting for my mom to pick me up from school and I sat on the swings imagining him pushing me on the swings. I always wished and still wishing to have my dad to play with me. He comes to visit me, not often as I thought he was. The day he comes to visit me; puts a smile on my face, but then I realize while I’m getting older, that the love I had for my dad, slowly is turning into anger. My dad has a son he is 2 years old, and when I use to go over his house I use to watch him play with his son, I’ll admit it I do get jealous, when i see him playing with his son, I always wonder why he never played like that with me. My mom, I love my mother, she has always been there for me, she tried talking to my dad on how I feel, but my dad doesn't seem interested in it. I act different around him when he comes to visit me now, I still smile but then I think of the times he didn’t answer the phone when I was little, or when he just comes to visit me to give me some money, or take me out to eat or buy me things. Maybe he feels like he can buy me things and everything will be okay, but its not like that. I have feelings, I hope he knows that. I’m not the little girl that use to believe everything he use to say, the lies he said to me. I’m 12 and I have grown, and my mind is understanding a lot of things now. Sometimes I wish my dad would understand the feelings I have, but there is only one problem, if only he would actually sit down and listen to me. Sometimes I feel like no one loves me, no one understands me. I try talking to my mom but she has enough things to worry about. I’m young why am I dealing with this kind of problems at 12 ? I’m suppose to be worrying if my hair is perfect, my nails are painted pretty, but no I don’t have that in mind. I have my dad in mind. Why doesn’t he answer the phone. Im going to try again and call him. (Picks up the phone and dials her dads number and starts to call, Ring Ring Ring). He didn’t answer, I’m not surprised no more. I’m getting use to my dad not answering my phone calls. What upset me the most that he didn’t call me to wish me a happy birthday. I sometimes don’t want to hear from him again, but he is my dad. My mom says, to just give him time, that he is busy working. I gave him enough time, since I was 6 years old and now I’m 12 years old and he still doing the same thing, not picking up the phone. Lying to me. Making excuses up why he couldn’t call me for my birthday. I don’t know if he knows it but I’m getting tired of all his lies, his excuses, soon I’m going to grow older and not think about him, well he could cross my mind, but I’m going to be strong and just ignore him. I’m tired of all this. I should start doing my homework, i had enough of talking about my dad. English, and math homework and my 500 word essay on someone you admire isn’t gonna write it self. If only I had my dad here to write about him. I always wonder if he would be a good person to look up to. I’m never going to find out. I have never felt a love of a father. I wish I did. Sooner or later he is going to come to me and try to talk to me, but as how he did to me was ignore me, then I’ll do the same. I know I will always love my dad, but while the years go on, the anger will be taking over the little love I have for my dad. Well here goes another same old day, with out my dad around. Mom; if you ever find my diary and read this, don’t show this to dad. Its a secret. I love you mom. 

Well, I usually start by telling him how much I like his Burlington Coat Factory necktie, or how delicious the cornbread is that his wife made. Honestly, that’s what I want to tell him. It’s what I’m used to, quick and easy, but I get the feeling that it won’t be a loaf of cornbread sitting on his living room table and his necktie will probably be Ralph Lauren or Nautica. We’re standing on this porch two inches from the rest of our lives and the only thing I want to say is… Is this outfit okay? (chuckles) Yea, that’s a question the girl would usually ask. I wasn’t even this nervous when I introduced you to my parents. My mom used to always say “If she can’t use a comb, don’t bring her home” (chuckles). I was surprised at how okay she was with you. All throughout high school I was so afraid to bring home anybody who wasn’t black. I knew my mom would smile in her face, but as soon as we were alone she’d call the whole family and complain about how all the good black men never want a black woman. One day I asked her, Did she ever think that women aren’t categorized by race? Did she ever think that the same human traits aren’t subject to race? I guess her reaction to you today was some type of new understanding she has. Have you ever been with a black guy? I mean I know my family has some issues with race, but you guys get the most hell about having problems with another race. I used to think that women like you were only nice to us black guys in order to stay on societies good side. I thought that, because of my skin color, I was only limited to a certain selection of females. I don’t know if you can understand this,  but when I met you it was one of the lowest points in my life. I knew I loved you immediately, and I hated myself. I hated myself because I felt that my skin color was keeping us apart, and at that moment I would’ve done anything to shed my skin so that you might be able to see me for the person I truly was. Amazingly enough, you did. Maybe you get it from your father. (Knocks on the door)

"As we sit here and think about the legacy, and impact she had on us." 

What is this? where am I at? This can't be true, I was just home.

 Sitting on my favorite red chair next to the window early in the morning, watching the sun rise and the birds start to sing. As I wake up to the sound of my favorite gospel singer Yolanda Adams. I can still hear her sweet voice singing on the radio to the song open up your arms, wow what an amazing talent. I remember eating my favorite meal that day pork chops Mac & cheese, mash potatoes with extra gray. I wish I would have took cousin Sam's advice or more like his warning. "You need to stop eating all those fatty foods before you end up in the hospital cousin, you sure anit getting any younger." 

"We have to remember she wouldn't want us to cry, instead she would want us to remember the good times, we had with her."

Those two words "good times" bring back so many great memories from my life. I remember meeting my best friend in first grade, the first thing she said to me was "I like your dress, want to be friend’s.” From that day on me and Susan Campbell has been together forever, well I thought. I remember on a hot sunny day my mom was filling my pool with water, and while we waited to take a dip in the pool here comes our neighbors. We decide to play with them only to prove that girls can do anything guys can do. As me and Susan was running from them I trip over her foot and landed straight on my knees. After I realized how much pain I was in, one of the boys noticed my leg was bleeding from almost every angle. After I showed my mother and got clean up I saw a scar. That scar never went any where, it was the only thing that have been with me through my whole life.

"As we are about to lay our beloved wife, mother, and friend in the ground. Is there anyone that would like to say any last words"

This thought of never seeing my family and friends again hurts me to the core. The fact that I get to be with my lord and savior, and don’t have to struggle anymore is worth it. So as I leave this world, but not my memories I realized I have no regrets. I wish I could tell them right now, how much I love and will miss them truly, but life doesn’t work like that. I will be watching over everyone from high above the clouds, and wiping there tears whenever the think of me.

My phone rang, it was my cousin crying, he never did this before so I knew it was serious. He told me that he had just heard about Chrissy, our aunt. I was kinda in shock that he called, of all people, me? We weren’t close. I had to make sure he knew I was there for him. I tried calming him down and I began to tell him everything that had happened so far. I could hear him sniffling as I started talking.. I remember it being so close to summer that I could smell the warm air and hear the ice cream truck driving down my street. Only a few weeks left of school until the summer of my life would be here. It was a Friday and I was excited for the weekend, I took the train home from school that afternoon where my dad picked me up at the train station. I asked my him how my aunts appointment went and I could tell by his reaction to my question wouldn’t have a good answer. As he began to explain to me all the agonizing details I froze. He said that it was terminal cancer meaning that she will die from it. I fired question after question making sure I knew everything. How long is she going to live? was my last question. He waited a while, then told me that less then 5% of people live longer then a year. A year? Only a year? Maybe knowing all the details wasn’t the best idea after all. I didn’t want to cry in front of my dad, I never really cry when I’m around people. A weird sensation goes through my body when people see me cry, I hate it. 

I asked my cousin a question to make sure he was still there. You remember when all the Philly people went to the beach for Mothers Day weekend to kinda get away from everything? He replied “Yeah, I remember.” I wasn’t sure how to explain this to him just cause it was a sensitive topic for everyone, but I gave it a shot. “So while we were down at the beach everyone had got Chrissy something special to just show her how much we love and appreciate her. Everyone got her something little like a bracelet, a phone case but when it came to me I had so much more to give. I had wrote her a letter, explaining and telling her every single thing I wanted her to know, but I couldn’t bring myself to give it to her. Instead she just got a boring cheesy card and a necklace from me. The next day I woke up, expecting it to be the same as every other morning but when I got down stairs I knew something was up. The living room was empty, nobody in the kitchen making breakfast. Eventually I realized that everyone was outside. I went out to see what was going on and to my surprised everyone was laughing and joking around with my aunt about losing her hair. We didn’t think it was going to happen this soon so we had to come up with a plan.” My cousin interrupted.. I don’t wanna hear anymore he said. This was a surprise to me but I didn’t argue. We hung up the phone and at that moment I realized that this might not be the summer of my life but it will surely be one that I never forget. 

(sad talking to therapist at school) Hi Jen wassup. I have a lot that happened today and that went through my mind.I had a lot of questions that ran though my head.Lets see....were to start... oh ok , I got it. (Dad walking into room flicking on the light) .The normal wake up call.My dad came in to my room babbling on about nothing with still a little white powder under his nose (wipes upper lip) like he always does when he is high. I got up and had to shove him out of my room. I got dressed and when I opened my door he was standing in the hallway just staring at the wall,Just staring at it! Like it was doing tricks or something. Ugh how I hate him so much, But I really don’t want to loose him.

I guess that’s wrong to say that I hate him because he really is the only one that loves me.Sometimes it is hard to tell so I ask myself a lot if he really does love me or does he just tolerate me? He has to love me because he takes care of me, ever since my mom left he was always there.Even though he is using drugs he has still been there at every school even, he was there for every award, and every change that I went though. 

Then again i don’t know what to think because he does do drugs. Him doing drugs effects me in away that could never be fixed. I see him do things and say things that can never be taken back. If he really loved me he  would never do things that hurt me,and him doing these things hurt me.Its not like he goes to work and does it when i’m not home, no he does it when I get home right in the comfort of our home, yea our home not his.Who does he think he is doing things as big as drugs right in front of me! Now what if i where to go and do the things he does i would be the one who is in the wrong. I would never do it though because see how it effects him and what he does when he is high.

When I do try and talk to him while he is sober. When I try to talk to him he just shuts me up and doesn’t want to listen to what I have to say about it.I understand why he doesn’t want to talk to me because he doesn’t want to hurt me while he is sober.Maybe does what he does because of me,maybe I put him under to much stress.Maybe my dad isn’t hurting me maybe i’m hurting him.

From what I know Sugar Skulls are a Mexican celebration.  Sugar Skulls are used for day of the dead and they are a offering to the dead. Day of the dead is a day to celebrate relatives that have passed away. 

The meaning a my Sugar Skull represents me in a lot of ways. I didn't want to do a skull that was dark, I wanted to do one with a lot of bright colors and flowers. I also wanted to keep the skull basic I didn't want to make it to busy so that it was hard to look at. 

For the plaster I used Jereimah's face. I started by cutting up the pieces and making sure that water I was going to use was warm. I put the vaseline on his face to make sure the the mask did dry directly on his face and it would be hard to take off. Then I started by plastering his forehead and I made by way down his face. I let that plaster dry for about 5 minutes. Then I started on the second level of the plaster. I worked from the forehead down then let that level dry for about 6 minutes. When the plaster seemed to have dried I took the mask off his face and let dry. Twos days later I was able to start painting the mask. I made sure that I had all of the primary colors so that I could mix any colors I wanted. I started by painting the top of the mask first and then I worked my way down the mask. I lastly did the mouth cause I was not sure how I wanted to paint it. 

My name is Brandon Yam and for my english project, I was told to choose an issue in the world, research about it, and make a change. There are many issues in the world, but the one I’ve chosen to do was Gay Rights. Now, I’m not saying that the other issues aren’t just as important, it’s just that I feel I’d be able to tackle this issue much easier. What I want to achieve through this is educating others about the world around them and how issues like this can affect them. I want to teach you, the readers, that we can make a change if we work together. We are the ones who are going to take the first step in this journey of a thousand miles. Click here for more information.   Gay rights is a big and problematic issue we’ve had on our hands for a while. Many people are discriminated because of their sexual orientation and some are even stripped of their rights. For example, in the United States, only five states permit same-sex marriage; that means forty-five other states don’t permit it. Can you imagine how bad some people feel knowing that they won’t be able to marry the one they love because they are the same sex? The five states that permit it are Massachusetts, Iowa, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Connecticut. In addition to that, transgenders are not protected in thirty-seven states. How can we be so cruel and still have the nerve to say that we treat others equally? 

Just recently, the Roman Catholic Church funded $2 million in an attempt to further discrimination against LBGT people during the election cycle in Maine, Maryland, Minnesota, and Washington. Of course, the attempt was unsuccessful, but it still shows how desperate people are to deprive others of their rights. This surprises me because I thought a church was a place where love and the understanding of god took place, not discrimination. Some say that to be gay is a sin, but isn’t it a sin to discriminate others? Click here to read more about the Roman Catholic Heirarchy case.

 
Photo that was provided in the article of the event


One day I was on Facebook and I saw someone post as their status something along the lines of this: “I don’t understand why guys hate gays. Aren’t they just giving you less competition with girls?”. I thought to myself, that is true and I’m still not sure as to why people hate them. I support gay rights to the fullest extent. I’m straight, but I can’t imagine how I would feel if I was going through the same things gay people were. It’s just absolutely horrible. Many are beaten and mistreated for their sexuality. An example is John Bosco Nyombi, who was beaten and bundled on a plane by the security staff. Yeah, you read that right. By the security staff. I believe security is there to help, save, and protect others, not beat them up. Click here to read the article.


 
Photo of John Bosco Nyombi


I believe we are moving forward with the issue little by little. I’ve just read that a Utah School was sued because of restricting a book about lesbian family’s. A lot of people are now openly supporting this movement. Some celebrities are officially gay such as Jim Parsons from “The Big Bang Theory”, Adam Lambert from American Idol, and many more. I’d say there is a good amount of people who disliked them after hearing that and some who actually supported them as well. It was equal on both sides, but their rights still aren't the same. That’s what we want to change. We want equality for all, not just a certain group. 

 

Photo of certain celebrities announcing that they are gay.


I'm still left with the question, can we obtain equal rights for everyone? If so, how long will this take? I would like to know the answers to these questions, but only time can tell. What I would like to learn about as I go on is the status on gay rights. I would like to know what things get passed and which are on hold or even denied.
 
Click here for the pros and cons of gay marriage. 
Click here for a list of sources used in this blog.

(Warning: Violence)

(Sitting and looking at chair. Resting pistol against his head.) Four thousand, one hundred and sixty dollars. Phew. There’s no way to say that lightly. (Stands up. Pacing.) What has a man done with his life to owe four thousand, one hundred and sixty dollars of his livelihood to another man. What paths does he have to follow to bring him here, today. Ropes binding his hands and feet in some display of pitiful arrogance towards his ancestors. Sitting, waiting, ready to let go, ready to die. (At die pulls pistol up and holds it at chest height. Stays there for a couple of seconds. Holds pistol back down. Sits down and looks out over pool.)

You know, they say that taking a life is the hardest thing man has done, but man, MAN, has always been capable of incredible things. But what am I, incredible? No. What have I done to deserve such a title? My title is Janitor. “Sweep,” they say. “Sweep, clean out the pool. Sweep, clean the damn bathroom.” I... I’m goddamn tired of this job. (Turns back to man) For twenty thousand dollars a year I am a... a servant of the working class. And do you know what? I am damn good at it. Maybe that’s why I don’t leave. Plus there’s this; this “job”, if you want to call it that. Dirty, nasty business. That’s all it is. The dirt and grime rejected by society. Lowlife criminals like yourself owe someone like your boss a lot of money, no? Haha. But you know how this goes. I am the end of the line. I am the last face you will ever see. And they’re paying me a hell of a lot more than twenty thousand dollars. (Laughs)

You lived the life of these men, damn near walked in their shoes. How does this make you feel? Your whole life has led up to this very moment. Every (emphasis) decision you have made since your eyes first caught a glimpse of this magnificent world of ours has brought you to this. Very. Moment. (Pauses) Every decision I have made has brought me here today. And what have I done right to be the one holding the gun and not looking down it’s barrel. Maybe none of my decisions were right. Maybe my decisions were just less wrong than your’s. 

Who’s to say you haven’t lived a full life? Hell, I don’t know a damn thing about you. You could have once had a dream, a life, a girl. But you threw that away didn’t you. Crime itself is a drug. That’s what I always say. (Emphasis) You think all of those dealers and druggies on the streets are out there throwing it all out there for a reason? No, no man. They are a slave to the rush, the, the false sense of purpose and power that comes from disobeying. They seek to overthrow, to prove their worth, and for what? Status and singularity. They long to be unique and to stand out from the crowd. It starts young; they always do. I did. And I’m not talking about selling weed on the corner. I was never about that life. Harvard educated, not top of the class, but up there. I had a girl, a life, a dream. But I just couldn’t be happy, could I? I had to go and rebel, I had to be unique, to stand out. (Laughing) But look at me now! (Gestures around room, arms spread) A rec center my kingdom and a mop my staff! This is living, is it not! (Laughs)

No, I should be as fortunate as you to have the comfort of death. You don’t have to worry about anything at all. Not a care in the world. At least, not in this one. But, ah, listen to me ramble on. I am selfish, taking up so much of your time. We have work to do, do we not? Thanks for listening. (Raises pistol quickly and fires almost instantaneously. Picks up mop and begins to clean up blood. Fade to black.)

End.

​

Micah Getz                                                    

And I’m all alone again, with only a deadline here with me.

Really? Nobody stayed to build the set. Sure they’re all young, and don’t understand it, but our jobs are on the line. If this stage isn’t built the boss will get pissed off and we’ll all get fired.

Which would kind of be okay, since the director is such a dick, but the job markets down man! With CGI around, even master movie set designers like me have a few issues finding a job. More than a few issues or I wouldn’t have such a dick of director right now. I mean, this deadline is impossible to meet.

The only people who don’t care are the tech people. They’re always on a constant ego trip though, so they don’t count.

You know what man? I quit, I quit, I’m done!

It was better back in the day, before all of this technology. People were honest then, with the master worker leading me and my bros, and we actually wanted to make the movie, we weren’t working there in the middle of college, just to get the spending money our parents wouldn’t give us. No! Because back then they worked for the sake of the work, for the vision, for the movie. Not like these kids, always following “The System”. Also coffee isn’t as good anymore. Back in the olden days, I could stay up for three nights, with just coffee, and be completely fine! It was far out! Now, 10 o’clock, BAM! Asleep! Done! And 5 in the morning I’m up no matter what. Sleeping sucks man!

And then I’m tired, and I’m in charge, and I’m supposed to be telling all of these kids what to do, and I realize I’m not getting paid enough for this you know? This job is my life, except the movies I’m working on is a drag, and the deadlines are tight, so you know what that means? My life sucks right now!

I don’t have time to date, I barely get enough money to get by, and once this movie is over, I don’t know where I’m going to go!

…Maybe I shouldn’t quit then.

I could change jobs! I could be an artist! I could spend all of my money for a time in Paris; to admire art and get inspired, so that when I get back here I can paint! All of my work will be my own, my dream, my credit, no one else to screw it up, it would be a blast! I could experiment with different styles, change things up, as no monotonous stage job ever could, I could let everyone around me see my true worth! As an artist, I could paint nudes, and pick up chicks, and work from home, and have medical pot, and get blitzed, and be called eccentric!

…Or I could be out on the street in weeks, or caught by the fuzz, with no one there to help me, after all most artists wash out of the scene and die within month’s of becoming an artist.

I could do the opposite! I could get a degree at a college, get a good job, move out to the suburbs and buy a house. American dream, right? Moving out to the suburbs and living in isolation for eternity?

Actually, that would be a bummer man. And where would I get the money for a degree? I’m not made of cash. Going back to school would be stupid anyway. I wouldn’t be in this situation if I had been good at school.

If it’s too late to change at all, why even try? I could definitely do well right where I am. Sure life sucks, but it could always be worse right? As long as I’m good enough, my job security doesn’t matter. And even if I don’t get a job, well, that would be the perfect time to change my lifestyle. I could live off of the government any way. I mean, everyone hears stories about it, it’s gotta be true.

I guess I’m not going to quit. (Thinking) This is a lot of work to get done…(Pointedly looks around) No one else is here, so no one will care if I book it right? Right. Problems can always wait until tomorrow

 

(Lying on her bed) My childhood friends, with there big smiles and there eager eyes waiting on me to speak. “Mr. Shnuggles, Nyla, and the best one of all Peachy.” I instantly leapt straight into my story describing how my mother called me down the steps.My father was sitting in his chair watching my every move like a hawk. I immediately sat down on the couch, and waited for the conversation to begin. As I got situated in the chair, my mother walked toward me and handed me pieces of paper with lines and lines I couldn’t make out. She told me to read the paper and explain. So I held the paper to my face and knew what was about to happen. The words that I had held in my hands were all of the messages I sent to my girlfriend. Now a lot of people would say what’s so wrong, but when your a teenage girl living with your parents that praise the Lord...it becomes a big deal. So when I looked up over the paper my mind completely left my body as I saw my mother jump around and throw a tantrum of a 4-year old child. She kept repeating “You are nothing more than a lesbian, and won’t be anything in your life because your gay now.No man wants a woman that is interested in woman. People are going to call you names, and do so to me and your father as well. So now all I’m going to say is that “this” is just a “Phase” and your not allowed to be gay!End of discussion. I stood at the end of what looked like the longest stairwell there was, watching as my parents left with no hint of a “goodbye”. My mother had simply turned the knob, and stepped out with my father right behind. All I could make out through my throbbing throat and watery eyes was “Damn...Angel messed up, I messed up? Or did I?” I slowly pressed the side of my back to the wall and dragged myself up to my room. I practically tripped over my cleats, into the middle of my bed. I forgot earlier to remove them from the path, but I didn't care. I just laid there just doing nothing. All I needed was just somebody to listen to what I had to say, but thenI looked up and there they were just waiting for me to tell what happened. Why would she ever say such a thing? (Turns on her back) O, I know why....because she hates me! I mean would your mother say such a thing to you?(Holds Mr.Shnuggles up in the air and places him next to her leg on the bed.) Don't even answer that Nyla,it was an expression of my feelings. But you know what?That's it right there, it's MY feelings! I mean so what that I have a girlfriend and that I'm gay.Does it truly make a difference in my mothers heart?But overall of that, why did my dad just sit there and not say anything? Doesn't he have a take in all of this? That's exactly what I'm saying Peachy, like do you really wanna be here, or do you just want to hear your wife talk? I'm truly sick of all this. But the sad thing is, is that it has just begun. An I really want another network for my phone.Cause that's the way she found out about my relationship, oh sorry, my "PHASE".(Angel does air quotation marks.) It's not a "PHASE" Nyla. It's who I am, and if she can't except that, than that's her problem. (Peachy falls on the floor, and Angel picks her up.)  Peachy,why in the he'll would I start paying my own bill and why you falling on floors? As a matter of fact I shouldn't have to do anything, because that's my personal privacy and her and nobody can take that away from me.

This isn’t living. Waking up and knowing your wife isn’t beside you, your mother isn’t in the next room, and your son isn’t downstairs watching saturday cartoons. I don’t know what to do. I left them. That’s what I’m reminded of every time I see one of those creatures out there, stumbling about looking for the next person it will rip to shreds. I left them for bait. My wife, my son, my mother. Everyday since the first outrage came on t.v.,  I’ve been giving them a false sense of hope. They relied on me. They trusted me to keep them same. And I just left them. It all happened so fast. The door was broken down by dozens of them. The entire house was filled with their disgusting odor of dead meat and dried blood. I reached for my handgun, the one I used to get rid of the groundhogs in the back yard. My son, Steve, he just kept crying in Ana’s arms. I used my gun to shoot them, but I couldn’t reach the ones that were climbing up the stairs in time. In a matter of seconds I heard my mother scream and then the growling. That one moment of distraction was all it took for those bastards to run me over getting to Steve and Ana behind me. They stepped on me, and all I could hear was them yelling my name. Their screams were also consumed by the growling. I dragged myself across the floor with my gun in hand to reach the street outside. They noticed me and I starting running, I didn’t think twice. I didn’t stop to think about my family I just left behind. I ran and ran. I passed a couple of stupid ones who didn’t know what the hell was going on. I didn’t look back. I didn’t even look forward. I looked down at my running feet and stopped after I was sure I wasn’t being followed. I stopped here, at this doughnut shop. By the looks of it, it was out of business for a long time now and there were signs that a horde had torn the place up. I looked for a way to get in and I found the back door wide open. I closed it and chained it back up. I found this tape recorder in here. It replayed a young woman’s voice . She lists all these groceries. Eggs. Milk. Canned corn. Groceries remind me of my wife’s cooking and I realized, and it’s still on my mind at this moment. I realized that my family was dead. They were back there, on the house with the once beautiful garden I planted for Ana. They were there completely disfigured to the point where they can’t even be considered to have once been alive. I just stared at the blood on the wall. I wanted to cry and I would have given up anything to do so. The tears wouldn’t come. I was overpowered by other emotions. Disbelief. Shock. Fear. My family was killed by those freakish man eaters and I couldn’t do shit. I only saved myself. I wish I could go back out there and die like they did. But, fear gets me every time I try to open the door. I’m so damn selfish. I’m a coward. Some father I came out to be. I just keep checking my ammo. How bad of an idea is this? One bullet left. Yeah, this is how I’d rather it end. I don’t want to carry this guilt anymore. Shit. There’s a horde outside. I might as well do it now. There’s no way I can fight them off. Mom, Ana, Steve. I’m sorry. See you soon.