March 3rd

This is Jimmy Varn and I am still alive.

This is going to sound crazy, but I was a little depressed this morning and I wasn’t sure why. As I was checking the houses near me, it dawned on me what was wrong. It was Little Joe. I hadn’t seen the kid zombie since the zombie parade and I think I miss him.

I need to find someone alive to talk to.

Especially on a day like today. I found some fucked up shit in one of the houses. I found an entire family slaughtered. The dad was killed in the living room. The mom was dead in the kitchen and the teenage boy was dead on the staircase. No big deal right? I have seen this a bunch of times.

Nope, this was different because it wasn’t zombies that got them. There was bullet holes in the walls and in the bodies. These people weren’t zombies when they were shot. Someone shot their asses. That same someone took all their canned food too.

What got me was that it looked like they ransacked the bedroom and stole jewelry too. That is depressing. Not only is some dumbass killing people, but they were dumb enough to steal something really unimportant like valuables.

On the other hand, I doubt such a dumbass would still be alive.

Here is the part where I need to talk to someone. I’m not going to bury these people. I feel like I should but burying is a lot of hard work. The fact of the matter is I just don’t want to.

I think in a weird way, I don’t want to because it looks like they were killed when this shit just started. These aren’t survivors. These people were not holed up praying that the living dead will walk on by. I know their deaths were horrible and tragic, but I don’t feel empathy for them. They are not survivors like Corbin or the Screamers.

I am not sure if this makes me a bad person.

I’m going back to work.