Survivor's Diary
Day 1095 of Survival - April 1st
Today is April Fool's Day, as well as my birthday. This year, the day has passed with a rare sense of peace. Every year, my friends always play pranks on me. No matter how angry I get, there's nothing I can do about it. They always say that since it's April Fool's Day, anyone who gets upset is the real fool. Sometimes, I impulsively come up with new ideas to turn the tables and make them the fools, but alas, no one ever falls for it. In the end, I'm the one who ends up looking foolish. I try to comfort myself, saying, "It's okay, a fool is just a fool." Perhaps the saying "great wisdom lies in simplicity" is a reflection of people like me. Now, as I think back, I deeply miss my old companions. If they were still here, I'm sure they would enjoy playing pranks on me, and I would happily play along. But that day will never come.
Today is no different. Every year, my mother would cook soft-boiled eggs for me when I woke up and prepare a birthday meal for me in the evening, usually with my favorite red-braised pork. My father would always say he'd buy me a cake before going to work, but by the time he came home, he had forgotten all about it. I had long gotten used to the idea that there would be no cake on my birthday. Still, my mother would always make me thick, savory egg pancakes, and they filled me with warmth and satisfaction. But this year, I won't get to taste them either.
I miss those days when our family would be together, laughing and enjoying each other's company. I long for the moments when I could share a drink with my friends, but I no longer have the luxury of such nostalgia. I must let go of those thoughts and face the reality of my current situation.
Today is another bleak day. The sun has not shown itself for so long. The weather has been dark and oppressive, much like the weight in my heart. Today marks the 1095th day since the outbreak of the G-virus. Everyone around me has succumbed to it, including my beloved parents. I don't know if anyone I know is still alive. The world is shrouded in a grey fog. The streets are full of people infected by the virus. They started with simple coughs and fevers, but soon, they lost consciousness and became the walking dead that roam the streets. This transformation takes only three days, and they—no, they are no longer "they"—have lost all humanity. They are monsters now, and their behavior is no different from that of beasts. They spread the virus through saliva, urine, feces, and even cannibalism. The streets are thick with a putrid stench, and the ground is stained with red brain matter and yellow toxic fluid. Food has become scarce, and the so-called "safe zones" no longer exist. There is no safe haven for humanity.
Perhaps I am the last human left. Every day, the tension in my body is so exhausting. I am terrified. I don't know how much longer I must endure this. I wake up in panic from nightmares every day, unable to remember the last time I slept peacefully. The constant wails of the dying and the suffocating stench of death are wearing down my sanity. I am so tired—so very tired. Is there anyone who can save me from this? I wish this were all just a nightmare, that it would all end soon, and that when I wake, the world will return to how it once was.
I no longer have the strength to deal with the creatures outside. From the initial biting and tearing, they have now learned to use tools as weapons. They have even developed a rudimentary language and a sense of community. They move in groups, hunting together and dividing their spoils evenly. They have a leader now, one who guides and commands them. What a terrifying organization this has become. I am afraid. I am so very afraid, and so weary. I can't find any others like me, and soon, I won't even be able to find food. My family members left in search of other survivors, but none have returned. Today, I have no choice but to venture out because I have run out of supplies. If I return alive, I will be overjoyed. If not, and should any survivors find my diary, please remember my name—Zhao Nan. I hope you will have the courage to survive and live on.
Zhao Nan, final entry
A Survivor