#001 - Michael Crowshaw
#2 of Stories [Kill. Survive. Die]
#1 - Crowshaw, Michael
Age: 38 Sex: Male
January 27, 2028, "I know. I know where I am. Hell. I just woke up one day. After the second nuke wiped where I say I live off the face of the planet by my own nation, I can, with confidence, say that I live in hell. Wipe the first layer of dirt off from where you live, you will surely find hell too. Betrayed by my sworn protectors, I now wake up in a world where I would rather not wake up at all. I wake up every day terrified that when I open my eyes, I will be some sort of abomination."
February 8, 2028, "This is my last spoonful of food. I have half a bottle of clean water left. I'm going to starve. I cringe at the thought of again going Out There. I can see the white bone in my right forearm. I woke up to the last of my muscle slowly leaking out from it's sizable hole. Going Out There for merely five minutes did this to me. I need to find a gun. A knife will only give me time to turn back, then who knows what may happen to my body with a gaping irradiated neck wound. It's rather funny, isn't it? I want more than anything to die, but, I cower from the death that awaits me Out There."
February 10, 2028, "I think I managed to hide from them, but they're still hanging around. This masement can't hide me forever. I can still hear him Out The"
The writing continues again, a few lines down, written in frantic panic
"I HEAR HIS BOOTSTEPS. HIS HEAVY BREATHING ABOVE."
Part of the note was ripped
"HE HEARD IT. THE PAGE.
I DON'T THINK I WILL SURV"
_ The rest of the note was stained with blood. _