What day is it?

It's a roar in my head.

I'm cracking. I can't trust myself to go outside. Outside is death. Filled with death. Death walking. Death roaming.

I hear things. I see things. I swear there is someone in the apartment with me. I hear the cries of death in the echoes of existence. Just because I breathe I can witness life that once was.

No. No. No.

I'm crazy. I'm writing this trying to regain the clarity I once had. My bubble exploded and melted everything I thought I knew like lava.

I can't trust faces. I don't want to kill a breather. Not by mistake, anyway. It would truly break me to kill the friendly neighbors. I'm questioning if they aren't a figment of my imagination to begin with. I've taken to writing on the walls in a room I don't sleep it. I leave thoughts there. I close the door and go back to this echo of reality.

I woke up on the floor, curled up in the fetal position, wondering what day it is. I use to obsess over the Monday through Sunday. I'd pick a favorite day and celebrate with a piece of chocolate or a small glass of wine. It kept me balanced. I've lost the balance. I've started murmuring to myself like that weirdo at the bus stop three lifetimes away.

I need to reconnect with life. I've become a zombie by omission.

Sunday

If my calendar is correct my mom's birthday is coming up in a week. I don't know what to think about it. I mean... it's not like I can call her or anything. I have no idea if she's alive or not. I have a pretty good idea that she isn't but I'd rather keep my hopes low instead of having them shot down later.

I did a scavenge mission last week. It took me four days and I was drenched from head to toe. I love it when it rains, they seem to sidetracked by the smell of nature to really notice me. Visibility is always an issue but that's why it took so long. I had to find a safe house and make sure I had plenty of weapons. Downtown is so dense with the dead I'm paranoid I will lead them back to my house on the trip back. I always take a super long way and take my time. I don't even know why I went, really. I don't need anything. Maybe just a change of scenery? See if any nomads have gotten stranded and need some rescuing? O, if only.

Instead I got some coffee and other needless things that I probably could've done without. I found some new clothes that will work out nicely and... I saw another one. One that I knew once. It was Rosie from work, she was still in her maids uniform. She was milling around with the other couple dozen in the streets as I pass them she almost seemed to nod her head at me as a greeting, just as she always did. Any time I see one I recognize I kill them for fear that they will remember where I live and come find me... and usually it keeps the nightmares at bay. If I kill it in real life that's my only memory I can replay, if I allow the thing that looks like someone I once knew to continue to shamble around, well, they might find me... and crawl into my bed while I rest...

I don't want to think about that right now. The shift in weather has caused the shambling idiots to slow their pace and notice me less. I think they're distracted by the cool air and constant bustling of dried leaves. I am still doing my daily rounds and killing as many as I can without being worried about my own safety. The coffee gives me a false sense of energy but I'm mentally so expendable it's making me sick to my stomach. I've taken to talking to the zombies before I kill them. I check their pockets and create stories in my head on how they got such a miserable end. Then I think about what I said earlier... about being catatonic? What if I'm putting these souls to rest, for real... am I helping?

What if there is a cure and I'm just killing these suckers off? Is there police or military anymore? Will I be reckoned with once they realize the scorch marks and brittle bones on corner of the road is the only thing left of hundreds of bodies I put out of mobility? Will I care if I am jailed? You could say I'm already a caged bird... too big for the cage... pecking endlessly for rescue but to no avail.

I guess I'll never know.