Journal Entry 10 PT 1

Dear World,

The first birth I ever witnessed was a horrific tragedy. My family and friends were dead. I was homeless. The streets of town resembled a war zone. Populated by rats, the park where I use to play had become a landfill of dead bodies.

Like a wild animal, I scavenged for food. I broke into houses and anywhere else, I thought I might find a morsel to eat. To help ease the pain in my stomach I sometimes stole food from the hands of others.

At night, I found a place to hide but never in the same place twice. Sleep didn’t come easy; I hated the dark. Horrible monsters lived in the dark.

Almost daily, I witnessed senseless brutality. Dragged into the street the soon-to-be-dead always kicked and screamed. Their cries for help and mercy ignored. Afraid for my own life, I hid, closed my eyes, covered my ears and prayed I wouldn’t be next.

On this particular day, I was exhausted, tired and hungry. The Red Hyenas were hunting and I was their prey. Already caught but released during a game of cat and mouse, I ran into an alley and hid in a crawl space. From somewhere in the damp darkness, I hear the voice of a young girl say “Help me, please!”

My first reaction was to flee but I couldn’t the Red Hyenas were in the alley.

“Shhh…Be quiet!” I begged in a whisper.

The girl answered my pleas for quiet with moans of agony.

I peeked into the alleyway. The hyenas were fighting amongst themselves as they searched for me amongst the garbage.

Fearing the hyenas would hear the moaning and cries for help, I crawled deeper into the darkness and demanded the girl be quiet. What I saw still haunts me; Blood was everywhere and the smell nauseating.

Please…oh please, help me!” The girl cried as she reached for the blood-covered infant lying in the mud.

I stared in horror and scooted back against the far wall. I prayed the baby wouldn’t cry. If the baby cried, the red hyenas would find me.

Several hours later, I ventured back out into the alley. The girl and her baby both died in the dark. I never asked her name.

Casey knocked on my door around 4am this morning. She was having contractions and noticeably drenched in body fluids. Attempting not to panic or look worried, I woke Gretchen, and Cecelia. The girls helped me change Casey’s clothes and put her into a clean bed. After reassuring Casey, everything would be fine; I ran to wake Evan and JT and sent them on an errand to find a mid-wife. There was a small clinic a few blocks over. They returned within an hour with a girl named Lizzy. I stepped aside as labor coach and let the midwife take over. Gretchen and Cecelia stayed in the room to help and give moral support.

By noon, Casey was in hard labor and begging for the pain to stop. I put on a happy face and reassured everyone Casey and her baby would be fine. I kept my fears to myself. I prayed a naming ceremony would be on the horizon, not a funeral. 

There were moments I feared Casey wouldn’t have the strength to push her baby into the world. With every contraction Lizzy, Gretchen and Cecelia would yell, “Push Casey… Push!”

Casey responded with screams of pain that resonated through the school.

At 3:07pm, the baby arrived with a loud wonderful cry.

We all cheered as midwife Lizzy placed the crying baby girl into Casey’s awaiting arms.

Journal Entry 9 PT 1

Dear World,

I went on a walk today and found myself walking around my old neighborhood. I hadn’t been to that side of town in years. A memory came flooding back, I had forgot .

I was all alone and terrified. The world outside my front door was in turmoil. Sounds and smells of death were everywhere. The newly formed street gangs were running up and down the streets in my neighborhood. I went to my room, hid beneath my bed covers, covered my ears and prayed to God that he would let me die. 

I slept until the following day. I pulled my bed covers off my head and stared at the ceiling. The sun was shining thru my window. Outside was unusually quiet. My stomach had been empty for two days I could hear it grumbling in protest. I climbed out of my bed and stumbled into the kitchen. The pantry was empty except for a single can of lima beans. I have always hated lima beans. They always made me gag.

I grabbed the can of lima beans. The electric can opener was useless. My house had been without power for a couple of weeks. The manual can opener was in a drawer, next to the stove on the farside of the room. The kitchen wasn’t very large but with wobbly legs, the walk to the other side seemed difficult. I had to stop midway to catch my breath and wait for a feeling of lightheadedness to pass. It took nearly all of my remaining strength to open the stubborn can. The effort made me cry.

Crying crocodile tears, I walked into the living room and wrapped my mom’s quilt around my shoulders. I sat on the couch. I stared at the open can. I hated those beans. I didn’t want to eat them but my stomach hurt. The first bite of beans caused me to heave but I swallowed any way.


Journal Entry 8

Last night, I sat with Tony. I think his color is starting to return to normal. He is no longer a shade of death gray and his fever is gone. Day before yesterday, I would have bet he wasn’t going to make it. I am more optimistic and the Library Trio agrees with my assessment that Tony will make a full recovery.

As I walked toward my room for a couple hours of sleep, I saw Casey sprinting down the hall with her enormous naked pregnant belly leading the way; her shirt too small to cover the basketball sized bump. It was cuteness.

The circumstances of how Casey ended up in her pickle are unknown but predators are everywhere and they prey on the young and weak.

 As Casey waddled by my room, I asked how she was feeling. 

Casey replied, “I’m fine, gotta pee.”

I stepped into my room, kicked the door closed behind me, tossed my diary on the table and fell onto my awaiting bed.


Journal Entry 7

Dear World,

The Runt is missing. We couldn’t find him anywhere this morning. I knew something was wrong when he didn’t come bother me for breakfast.

I had a talked with the boy last night about how Tony needed more than medicine if he was going to survive. I tried to explain that medicine just wasn’t available on the market. He kept insisting we weren’t doing enough to save Tony.

Lisa took over sitting with Tony around 4am. She said the Runt was upset Tony might die and left in a hurry.

If I had thought medicine was available, I would have been the first to go and find it. The pharmacies were emptied out long ago. People sometime sell medicine at the plaza but I wouldn’t haggle, barter or trade for any of their poisons. I have heard rumors of people dying slow horrible deaths after ingesting one of the cures.

Matt and Jonas volunteered to go and look for the boy. I would have gone but I have things that need my attention here.


The Adventures of Runt and Sam Pt. 2

The Runt coughed over and over again as they exited the building. “I can’t believe you started a fire in there. We could’ve both died!!”

Sam rolled her eyes as she tossed Runt the bag of pills. “You’re welcome…I hate to steal and run but I’ve got somewhere else to be.”

The Runt tucked the pills into his shirt. “Sam wait! Thanks for helping me.”

“No problem, I hope your friend gets better! If you want, meet me at the park at sundown. I heard about a party.”

The Runt waved goodbye to Sam and ran toward his bike he had hidden behind a dumpster.

The Central leader enjoyed watching cage fights. Unfortunately, his supply of fighters was diminishing, more stock was needed. He sent out a few men to capture more resources. The boy was a bit small but he would be adequate for the warm up rounds.