Hi! My name is Sherry... Sherry Birkin. It was nice of the government to finally allow me to use a computer. I'm glad, really! I don't want to put too much on here, just in case. You never know, right? Anyway, I was twelve when I was saved. That was back in '98. You do the math now. I'll only put up old pictures since they don't want anyone to see what I look like 'now'. Security and all that. Well, I guess that's it. Maybe I can find her this way. Maybe then I can properly thank her...
Oh… It’s been so long…
And I don’t know what to say.
They’ve kept me busy…
It’s gotten better.
I honestly can’t explain why. It would be best not to say.
I’ll be okay.
That one glimmer of hope is still alive.
I’ve been… busy. I’m sorry! Really, I am!
I’ve just- So much has happened in these past, few weeks. Why, I went to work at the office like a normally do. I heard such snide whispers. It made me paranoid beyond belief. Oh, if only you heard what these men were saying!
“A viral monster”, they said.
“Petty scientists that wasted their lives,” they said.
“Foolish girl doesn’t know when to give up,” they said.
I couldn’t put my fist in my mouth. …I couldn’t. I didn’t mean to snap. Honestly… It was an accident. The stapler was right there. He screamed so much.
I still like to believe that it’s self-defense.
He initiated. His words were aggressive. I saw them as a threat. He groaned just like one of those- Those zombies. It was terrible to hear him cry out. I kept hitting him until the other man pulled me away.
And it’s all because of those events that I had a psych evaluation.
“Nervous breakdown,” she said while tapping her clipboard.
I- I guess that was it. That’s all it was…
Here’s a place I never want to return to.
I found this one day…
I’m glad that I haven’t seen the dead walk in years.
Maybe I should have been waiting for something entirely different.
I- I really don’t know what to say. I’m so tired. It’s not just nightmares, anymore. It’s worse than that. I find that I can’t sleep. I still go to work, but I feel like a z- I don’t want to say the word. I never want to say that word again. My chest aches. My heart thumps at a vigorous pace. These thoughts scare me. They’re so negative. So pessimistic.
They tell me that I’m waiting for nothing.
