Brian M… I think its March.
Every picture I had packed up with were of my family. They were stuffed into a small grocery store bag and at the bottom of my backpack. The backpack was taken from the rotting corpse of a teenage boy. Surprisingly he wasn’t murdered by one of us fucked up humans. One of those things got to him. Claw marks were everywhere. His expression will be frozen in time, until his body finishes decomposing and/or rodents or critters eat away at it.
Those family pictures are gone. I burnt them. Why keep them? They’re not coming back. All that could have been is gone. My memories of them are all that remain now. Like the dying tree of an extinct kind. I feel so weak and I’m so tired and hungry. There’s always junk food. I killed for a bag of cookies this morning. No joke. There were a few people who began following me around as if I’m some sort of hero, their saviour. Fucking assholes. Fuck them. I just don’t care. Well anyway they aren’t here anymore. I didn’t kill them, they decided to leave or rather, I left without them knowing. A close knit of friends, well, the one was good looking. Quite attractive. You don’t see that these days. Maybe she did die I don’t know. We were all sleeping under this bridge. Well they were, I couldn’t sleep. They slept easily since they thought I’m Jesus fucking Christ. I told them to leave me. I warned them. Leave me the fuck alone and follow somebody else! Attract attention elsewhere so those fucking things can eat and claw you to death you fucking whores.
Well on they slept through the night. I couldn’t help but to notice that she… the way she was lying on her side… Her nipple was showing. My animalistic nature took over. I belted her over the head with the butt of my shotgun. The noise didn’t wake the others up. I didn’t even check to see if the blow had killed her. So then I dragged her away, not too far off though, just far enough so nobody would be able to hear me. This week… she was my third.