I ask Dad what my mom used to worry about. Like, what were her day-to-day concerns? Dad said she used to worry about putting on weight, even though she had the willowy figure of a model. Can you imagine, having so much food to eat you could get fat from it?  Sometimes she worried that she should be a better wife, a better mom to Dep. He says she wasn’t perfect. Far from it. But he loved her just the way she was. I like that.

My hopes, my dreams, my fears? Staying alive, staying alive and staying alive. Kidding. Kinda. Other than not dying an untimely death, according to all the books I read, my teen desires aren’t too removed from the old world. I wouldn’t mind finding a nice boy, go out on an approximation of a date, hold hands. That sorta thing. Gah. I hope to God Dad or Dep don’t ever snoop here. Mortifying. Dad, Dep – if you are reading this YOU should be ashamed of yourselves. Stop RIGHT NOW and we will never speak of this awful transgression upon my privacy.

Of course I think about…’it’. I mean, I haven’t even kissed anyone, so let’s not get too carried away. But yeah. How I would even entertain the idea after Dad’s version of the birds and the bees, is beyond me, but I guess biology wins. Dad’s biggest fear is me getting pregnant – ever. As if the experience with Denise didn’t scar me for life already. But as I get older, I realize that anything can happen, and not doing something because of the ‘mights’ is not a way to live. But that could just be the hormones talking.

So that helped me to decide to reply to Ben’s note.

‘Let me in, oh God, please let me in!’

Dad answered the door, seconds before the alarm sounded.

‘Denise – what’s going on?’ Dad gently took the panicked young woman by the arm and guided her to a chair, while Dep locked up. I hung back, in my ruffled flannel nightie, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’ Denise moaned, cradling her stomach.

Kneeling in front of her, Dad asked, ‘is it the baby? What can we do? Dep is calling Doc right now,’ Dep looked sharply at Dad. Even I knew Doc wasn’t going anywhere once the alarm sounded.

‘Jay, sweetie, you go on back to bed. It is way past your bedtime,’ Dad wasn’t looking at me when he said it, so I knew if I was quiet, nestled between the sofa chairs, I would be able to stick around. I really wished I had listened to him.

‘How long have you been having contractions, Denise?’ asked Dad over his shoulder as he washed his hands. Dep was collecting towels and setting water to boil on our small gas stove.

‘I’m not,’ answered Denise quietly, head down.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Dad. I jumped a mile when Denise howled a really rude word beginning with ‘F’. The rawness of the cry brought tears to my eyes. In a ragged voice, she told Dad and Dep what had happened.

‘Grandpa didn’t want to go to the infirmary – he said it was just a Summer cold. You know how he is. I didn’t push him to go. I left….’ she glanced guiltily at Dad, ‘I left our doors ajar so I could hear him in the night – he’s so frail. And I have just been so tired, with this little critter, I didn’t hear any thing until he had…’ her voice trailed off.

‘So the baby is okay? You’re okay?’ asked Dad with hope in his voice.

‘No, not really,’ said Denise. And she showed them. ‘Help me get the baby out, before I go!’

‘You know the rules, Denise, we…’

‘If it happens in the meantime, do what you have to do, but give my baby a chance!’

‘We wait till the all clear,’ suggested Dep, ‘we  get Doc straight here, then – ‘

‘No,’ Denise’s voice was hard, ‘we don’t have time for that. I’m dead, regardless. I want my baby to live. Please.’

‘Shit. SHIT!’ swore my Dad. He ran his hands through his hair, ‘Dep get our med bag.’

‘Thank you, thank you,’ cried Denise.

When Dep came back with the bag, Dad looked him straight in the eye and said, ‘I’m sorry,’ but I don’t know why.

They put towels and sheets on the kitchen table, and helped Denise up onto it. Dad gave her an injection. He said it would take the edge off, but it wouldn’t be enough. With a fuzzy voice, Denise said she didn’t care.

‘Jay, I know you are there, honey,’ said Dad. ‘Come up here and watch Denise. You only look at her face, you understand?’ I nodded.

‘Dad – no – don’t make her do that, she’s too little,’ pleaded Dep.

I know Dad wasn’t being heartless when he shrugged and said, ‘Life or death.’

I can’t tell you a lot about what happened next. The screaming, the smell, my brother trying to stifle his sobs, while his hands held her body open. Denise gripped my hand, until it went limp.

‘Daddy!’ Covered in blood, both he and Dep froze and looked straight at me.

‘Check her breathing, Jay,’ I gingerly placed my ear next to her mouth.

‘There’s nothing,’ I cried.

‘Take this knife,’ said Dad, ‘you have been trained for this. As soon as it happens, you know what to do.’

‘Why not now?’ asked Dep.

‘Who knows what is going on in there – a few more minutes might save the baby.’

‘Or kill it!’

Dad ignored Dep. ‘Keep watching, Jay – you’re doing great!’

There was nothing now but the sound of our breathing, the creak of the table and the awful sucking, slopping, dripping. They weren’t being gentle any more.

‘Nearly there.’

‘Daddy –

‘A few more seconds, Sweetie.’

The limp hand, which I was still holding, twitched.

‘She’s waking up, Daddy!

‘Got her!’ cried Dep.

‘Do it, now!’ Dad told me. And I did.

Dad quickly wrapped the baby, a little girl, in a sheet. She wasn’t crying yet.

‘Is she -?’ sniffed Dep, unable to finish the sentence. Hands covered in gore, the tears that streamed down his face went unchecked. They peered at her, daring to hope. She opened her eyes.

‘Fuck.’

The all clear sounded and I threw up on my feet.

I should have been furiously knocking on wood when I wrote that last entry.

There are precautions in place. We aren’t stupid. We all sleep with our doors locked – house and bedroom.

We can’t predict when someone is going to have a heart attack while taking their morning piss, and amble about with their bits hanging out of their zipper. Didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. I probably did both, which is a shame upon my manners and my bad ass training.

Sometimes it hits quick. One bite and thirty seconds later, we have a second problem. Other times it can take….well, a long time. Too long. Mr Peterson was particularly, ahem, virile. By the time I got there, we had four.

You might wonder why someone else didn’t jump in and take them down. It used to be that way. But too many people get accidentally killed or bit that way.

If you see it, you raise the alarm and we go into lockdown. Then it is Security’s problem.

People talk about quarantining those who are old, sickly or unfit. I can see why, but it is just not right.

Where do you draw the line between surviving and living?

Right, so here we are, in the ‘present’. Killed best friend, fought with dad, writing a diary. What else would you like to know? No, not that. Not yet, anyway. Shall we do a ‘Day in the Life of Jay’? I am afraid that it won’t be very exciting.

Everything we do here, is to ensure our survival. Food, drinking water, shelter and not dying are the important things. Dad sometimes gets nostalgic. He can’t get over how much time he used to have to do whatever he wanted, in the old world, but he always says that now he feels more like he has a purpose. I am dubious. The threat of imminent death by starvation, sickness or being eaten alive? I wouldn’t mind taking my chances with experiencing his teenage hood.

Every morning (when not on watch) I get up. I check on my family. I pack my bed away. Quick wipe over with a washcloth, get dressed. Breakfast. We have food in the house. Some for now and some stored for an emergency. So we have the option to eat at home or in the Canteen. I usually eat at home for breakfast. Takes me a while to move from grunting and glaring to actual words and smiling.

You already know that doing a lap is a job, as well as look out. They come under security. At our age we do everything, and as people get older they gravitate towards a certain area. There’s farming, childcare, maintenance, infirmary, sanitation, the aforementioned canteen, laundry, storage, water, and trade. It is pretty full on – you can see why we don’t have a lot of time. Doing a different job a day keeps things from getting too boring. That is how it works at the moment, until someone pitches a fit and we change the rotation to something else until someone complains about that, and so on. Same thing with our weekends. That always changes. Can’t have everyone off at the same time. We do it in shifts – usually the whole family gets time off together. But then people complain if it doesn’t coincide with their friends’ time off. You would think after this long we would have this shit sorted, but nope. Dad does like to say this is a democracy. Gotta say that a dictatorship sounds tempting sometimes.

I bet you can tell which area I like most. It is the easiest and the hardest. Day to day, you don’t really get your hands dirty, but when shit goes down, as Hayley would have said, it is onnnnnn.

Under 18s get to finish a bit earlier than everyone else. So I might visit Dad or Dep, take a nap, read or like now, write. I don’t have heaps of friends. There aren’t a lot of kids of my vintage. As you can imagine, the beginning of the Apocalypse is not the most ideal time to be getting it on, let alone pushing out a kid. And even if you did get it on in an end-of-the-world-fornication-frenzy, the chances of general survival? Not huge.

Then it is home, food, free time – if there isn’t a meeting, and bed. Yup. As you can see, I am a total badass. But truth be told, living in a world that is so damn normal, yet can be tipped into terror at any time? It sucks.

Jay stood at the edge of her best friend’s grave, the dress she had worn especially for Hayley, floating around her legs. She was still wearing boots, and a vest with pockets. If Hayley had asked what the hell she was wearing, Jay would say she was going for 90s grunge, if the magazines she had read were accurate. Hayley would then be somewhat mollified.

Everything was too clear in this moment. The sunlight, the soft breath of the breeze, the chirruping forest. Jay closed her eyes.

Hayley and I used to play this morbid game. We called it ‘What if I Died?’ – we asked what would we say or remember about each other. She was much better at it than me. That is one of the reasons why I think it would be better if we could switch places right now. Jay couldn’t see her Dad, but she could imagine him shaking his head slightly, in frustration. Jay swiped at her face, and Hayley’s mom touched her arm, gently. I think we were very lucky to have each other, for so long, in this world. And selfishly, I am sad that one of only a handful of people that has known me nearly all my life, a holder of my memories, is gone. But I have another role now; I have her memories to take care of. Hayley liked wearing pretty dresses and looking nice. She was fierce and protective, even though she hid her soft side in sarcasm and name-calling. Jay glanced over at Jeremy. She wasn’t perfect. I can’t even pretend that, even though she isn’t here to defend herself. She was always late and often her thoughts would come straight out of her mind, unfiltered. I would have known within 20 paces that she would have hated this outfit. She didn’t let this tough world make her hard. She was generous and adventurous, and she was the girl I loved most in the world.

Jay opened her eyes. Those were the things she would have said today, if she had been brave enough. If she felt she had the right. But she didn’t. It was her private eulogy. As everyone moved away, Jay backed up to a tree, letting everyone pass, giving, small, close-mouthed smiles of acknowledgment that never reached her eyes. A real smile would seem like an obscene thing.

She watched her dad in the crowd. He always knew what to do and what to say. Jay scuffed the toe of her boot into the dirt. Ben sidled up to her. He didn’t say anything. She could smell him. Sunshine and warm polyester; a suit jacket. He pressed a piece of paper into her hand. Jay slipped it into a pocket without looking at it, and Ben walked away.

Let’s go, said Dep, slinging an arm around Jay’s shoulder. He’ll take forever. Dep paused. He’s proud of you, you know.

Jay rolled her eyes, for what – pretending to be a semi-decent human being?

Yeah, pretty much, agreed Dep.

Life goal achieved, then. But she knew then, without having spoken to her dad at all, that there was a truce.

Knock ‘em Down Drag ‘em Out Attempt One:

This wasn’t long after all the bone-crushing hugs, searching gazes, and checking me over for obvious broken bones or bites. We were in the kitchen. I was nursing a hot drink, and my leg was jiggling like crazy under the table, making the floor squeak. I knew it drove dad crazy.

I don’t have to ask you if you know the drill, right?

I tried not to let the eye-roll show in my voice. We go out, we go around, neutralize any threats, come back in. Weapons accessible, radios on, tower and sniper back up.

So what in God’s name happ-

Didn’t take me long to lose my shit. I know. I fucking know, all right?

He scrubbed his hand across his face. He sighed. We have been doing this for long enough, it shouldn’t have happened. You are far better trained and prepared than we ever were. 

I am 15 for fuck’s sake (oh, boy, was the swear jar gonna cop it tonight) I am so sorry that I don’t meet your high expectations of a child born into the apocalypse!

 What I wanted to say was, you can be a racing car driver, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be in an accident on the way to the store. When I was little, you were always on the race-track. Us? We get to rev our engines at a stop-sign sometimes, but that’s it. We don’t know constant fight or flight. And yeah. We got sloppy, or complacent or whatever.

What I did say contained lots more bad words and got less and less coherent. You think you’re the bloody Lord of the End of the World, bloody expert, if it is so awful and dangerous why do you send us out there? I might have even chucked a why won’t you tell me how mom died? in for good measure. By then there was ugly crying and snot. He didn’t bite.

He looked at me for a long time. You’re right. I forget how old you are, how things are different now. I gaped at him my brain stuttering. Why wouldn’t he just fight with me? Tell me what I wanted to know? I think I may have growled as I stood up, tipping my chair over. The whole place shook with my impotent door slam.

Knock ‘em Down Drag ‘em Out Attempt Two:

I am not going.

Jay. We are not discussing this.

I can’t.

You can.

Her parents, Jeremy – I can’t –

They are okay, they understand what happened.

They might be okay but it doesn’t mean I am!

You will pay your respects. That’s final.

Do you realize how fucking sick it is for Hayley’s murderer to be at her funeral? Out of the corner of my eye, I say Dep’s eyes widen. Uh oh. Now I had done it. Too far, too far! But it was out of my mouth.

Firstly, you did NOT murder her. God, trust him to defend me in the middle of this!

Um, I did it, I am pretty sure I can call it what I want.

That is not how this thing works!

Sorry dad. It is official. I am a murderess. Dep made cutting motions across his throat with his hand. He knew I was pushing dad’s buttons now. But why couldn’t he see that this wasn’t so simple to me?

You were her best friend. You. Are. Going.

Am. Not.

Again with the staring. I could see a vein standing out on his forehead.

Miss Murder I said, pointing both thumbs back at myself, is staying home.  Dep had closed his eyes and was shaking his head.

Go to your room! Dad roared. It would have been kinda scary but for by Dep’s snort of mirth. I know, right? 15 year-old trained weapon being sent to her room? Whatever.

I raised an eyebrow at him. I will be in my room if you need me. No door slamming this time.

Once upon a time, if I had come across Dad and his group, and answered his three questions, like I just did, would he have let me join them?

Of course. I mean, I wouldn’t have mentioned the secret bit. Cos, duh. Secret. But lying through omission aside, I would have been in. He would see that I have mad skillz and I am virtually morally incorruptible.

You already know I don’t think that last bit is true. You know, the part where two teen girls, trained in the art of killing, get stupid over a baby animal and one of the said girls has to be stabbed, through the brain, with a barbeque implement by her best friend.

But the morality of this new world is shady at best and dad gets that, more than anyone. We don’t get about raping and pillaging, but in the old world, I am pretty sure every one of us would have been locked up for life.

Anyway. The coping part. I supposed I sound glib. But these are just my words, not my heart. I am a bit of a mess. Dad was so freakin’ angry – at me, in general. He loved Hayley too. It got so bad I started sleeping in my bedroom. I usually like to fall asleep with the noise and light of my family around me, but I couldn’t do it. Dad’s silent rage and sadness filled the space it fought with my guilt and grief, and I thought the windows would bust outwards with the pressure of it.

I am not proud to say that there was some undignified behavior on my part. I wanted a knock ‘em down, drag ‘em out fight but Dad wasn’t having a bar of it. He diffuses situations. At least with Dep – he indulges me. When I was little he would find me in a pissy mood, so he’d give me a kick in the butt and then it would all be on; him wetting himself laughing while a rabid eight year old in pigtails tried to get a piece of him. When I hit puberty  he discovered he valued his life more than riling me up.

Yeah. In those first few days we could have brought the house crashing down with the weight of it all. And then there was the burial.

Q1: I haven’t killed that many in the wild.

For training purposes, maybe 100? I guess that is a lot. I can close my eyes and know exactly which body part/organ my weapon has entered. Gross but true.

Q2: One.

You might wonder why I count her as one, when you know as soon as she was bit it was over. Partially it was ‘cause she hadn’t turned, so you know, still human. But we don’t wait for that to happen before we do it anymore. No more bedside vigils, knife or other sharp implement at the ready.

Mostly I count her because I have a secret.

Q3: You know why I did it. Because no-one deserves that other fate. And it had to be me, her best friend, sitting there in the sunshine, with the warm breeze, birds chirping, holding her hand. We cried a little bit. She gave me messages to pass on. After a while she said, ‘Okay, enough canoodling. Just do it, whenever, soon. Make it a surprise.’ I tried to wipe my sweating palm as sneakily as I could but I swear her breath hitched a little.

I used my metal skewer.  She was leaning against me. My left arm was already around her shoulder. I cradled her head in my left hand –she froze- and I used my right. Through the temple: quick, relatively gentle and pin-hole neat. A two-second surprise.

Jay could see it was a beautiful day from her nest of blankets on the floor in the living room. She had a bedroom, but for reasons unknown to her, bedrooms creeped her out, so she always dragged her stuff out to the sofa. Her dad and brother had stopped commenting on it long ago. When she stepped out onto the porch she wondered if she had dressed too warmly. There was a tinge of crispness to the air, but it was going to be a spectacular day. Jeans, sturdy boots, long-sleeved shirt, with a zip-up sleeveless jacket. Lots of little pockets. Nope. It would be fine. Jay figured that she could be in the desert and she would wear the same thing. Whenever it was her turn for a lap she wanted to be as dressed as possible.

‘I saw that eye-roll!’ called Hayley.

‘You saw nothing,’ replied Jay as they met each other in the street.

‘Can’t a girl take a little pride in her appearance?’ Hayley did a little twirl to show off her faded floral dress.

‘I don’t think our audience really gives a shit what we wear,’

‘How many times do I have to tell you –‘

‘-just because it is the end of the world, it doesn’t mean we have to let ourselves go,’ finished Jay. ‘But come on! How can you run in that?’

‘And this is why they call you Gay Jay,’ sung Hayley.

‘Whatever. That isn’t even an insult,’

‘Anyway, the only ones we ever see these days are so old and gross, who needs to run?’

‘At least tie your hair back, please?’ asked Jay.

Jay loved Hayley, she really did. They were like sisters. In that they drove each other bat crap crazy. Hayley was starting to notice boys more and more. That didn’t bother Jay – she got it, hormones and all that, but it didn’t mean that concern for safety had to fly out of the window.

But Jay couldn’t pick on her too much. It was Hayley who did most of the dirty work when it came to them. Jay could do it, if push came to shove – she was plenty trained for it, thanks to her family but just because she could, didn’t mean she wanted to.

The girls picked up their weapons and radios from the shed and headed out for their once a week turn of a lap around the compound. It used to be so that you could do the lap from the safety of the inside, through the fences. But better fences had stopped that; you had to go out. It wasn’t a huge deal. There were spotters and sightings weren’t that common. And like Hayley said, the ones they did see were pretty decrepit.

‘Heeeey ladies!’ chirruped Jay’s radio.

‘Heya, Ben!’ replied Jay.

‘I will be checking you out today!’

‘Really?’ Jay was pretty sure Ben could hear her raised eyebrow.

‘I mean, checking things out, for you!’

‘Yeah, sure,’ laughed Jay, waving in the general direction of the tower as she and Hayley headed out.

Jay did often wonder if these checks were even necessary. But her Dad said there was something to be said for vigilance, and tradition.

‘Boring. Boring. Boring!’ claimed Hayley, as they walked along, punctuating each word with a swing of her machete.

‘Easy there, Tiger!’ laughed Jay, pretending to duck.

‘Ughhhh, why do we even do this?’

‘What, would you prefer to be on latrine duty?’ asked Jay. ‘Anyway – every time you complain about this, you are wishing a herd into existence to come get us.’

‘Bring it oooooon!’ yelled Hayley, pointing her machete to the sky.

This time Jay rolled her eyes, very visibly.

‘Girls…’

Hayley and Jay froze as Ben’s voice crackled over the radio. Hayley was the first to recover, mostly hiding that she didn’t nearly poop her pants.

‘FINALLY, some action!’

‘What is it?’ Jay asked.

‘Might be nothing. Just saw some movement, about 50 yards from the North wall. I’m watching and Jack’ll cover you.’

Jay would prefer that Jack just did the dirty work. But ammunition had to be saved, and noise kept to a minimum. It attracted them.

‘Don’t need to tell me twice!’ said Hayley, charging ahead.

‘Keep –‘

‘-our radio on, I know. Thanks, Ben,’ finished Jay, jogging after Hayley.

One thing that Jay’s dad always remarked on, was how beautiful this new world was. Nature had reclaimed a lot of itself. He said that colors seemed brighter and everything grew better. He said less humans and less pollution did it, and perhaps, he just had new eyes, surviving so much death. Right in front of the girls, a leafy bush, impossibly green,  was trembling and shaking.

‘Can you see anything?’ whispered Ben, as Hayley moved closer.

‘I haven’t got one in, like, forever,’ rasped Hayley, poised. Jay stood ready, heart-rate picking up, getting her battle-ready. She hoped it wasn’t too messy. Hayley might be the girly one, but Jay hated the ick. Jay nodded she was ready, as Hayley made to part the bushes – she signaled with her free hand; one…two – Jay tightened her grip – three…and Hayley let out the girliest squeal.

‘Ohmygodababydeer!’

The deer stood awkwardly, blinking at them. One of its back legs was bloodied and it was lifting it off the ground. The animal was scared but it wasn’t making a get away.

‘We could eat that,’ Ben piped up.

‘Don’t you DARE!’ cried Hayley, crouching down, trying to coax the shivering animal. ‘Come here, little one, Momma Hayley will take care of you, come on…’

‘Wonder where the Mommy Deer is?’ said Ben, ‘That’s a feast, right there!’

Jay took a deep breath and stood back, pulling at the back of her damp-shirt. She couldn’t tell if she was relieved or not. All this adrenalin with nowhere to go. She watched Hayley, kneeling in the dirt in that ridiculous dress and smiled. Jay would give her a couple of futile minutes before she moved her on. Hayley was a goofy mess of girly, crazy bad-assery. She knew better than anyone that if anything, that deer was gonna be dinner. Closer, closer she was getting. Jay had to admit she was impressed at Hayley’s deer-whispering skills.

She squinted at the deer’s injured leg, the blood. It actually looked like…was it a smeared hand-print? ‘Hayley – wait!’ called Jay.

Jay’s radio crackled, as Hayley bit out an impatient, ‘What?’ hand still outstretched to the deer.

‘Shit – MOVE!’ bellowed Ben. Hayley tried to stand up, but she had squatted on her dress and fell backwards. Jay grabbed Hayley under the arm as she fumbled for her machete. It’s hand, covered in gore and fur reached for Hayley.

‘No you fucking don’t!’ said Hayley, scrabbling upright.

‘Hayley – get it or get out of the way – give me a clear shot!’ called Jack, calmly.

‘I got it,’ said Hayley, right before Jay stuck her knife under its chin.

‘Hey, bitch, I claimed that -‘

Ben’s warning shout was lost in, what Jay remembers as, Hayley’s indignant scream.

‘Fucker!’ she cried, swinging her machete straight into the second one’s eye. She shoved it off her knife. She turned to Jay, eyes wide. ‘Jay – it bit me. The bastard bit me!’ She sounded like this was an astounding and unheard of thing. Her fingers found their way to her shoulder, coming back bloody. Jay looked at her helplessly. All she could hear was a waterfall of noise in her head. Even though she knew her feet were on the ground, she felt like she was about to fall off the edge of an awful cliff. ‘No,’ said Hayley, her eyes filling. ‘Lemme just. I have to say ‘bye. Jeremy – I didn’t even,’ Hayley choked back a laugh, ‘the last thing I said – I called him a booger-eater! Oh man, this dress is my mom’s – she is gonna be pissed!’ Jay snorted. ‘Just let me go back. I will be quick, straight out!’ Hayley wound her arms around Jay’s neck. ‘Please!’ Her breath was close and hot on Jay’s cheek. ‘Oh, God, this sucks!’

‘You know we can’t do that,’ said Ben.

‘Jay,’ said Jack, ‘It is you or me,’

‘It could work,’ said Jay, ‘All three of us, go in, we can stay with her, make sure nothing happens, it will be fine. Let her say goodbye!’ Jay’s mind worked overtime. She could lose Jack and Ben, take Hayley somewhere safe, wait it out, to see –

‘Jay – ‘ Ben’s voiced broke, ‘you know it doesn’t work like that anymore.’

‘You have two minutes, Jay, if you can’t, I will.’ Jack’s voice was calm over the radio. Jay wanted to reach through and punch his lights out. Mostly because he was an epic shot, and if they tried to run he wouldn’t hesitate to take them both down.

‘Come on, Gay Jay,’ joked Hayley, ‘you’ve got about ten minutes to cuddle the shit outta me.’

As the two boys surveyed from afar, it looked sweet. Two pretty girls, arms around each other, looking into the beautiful green forest. Except, as the shadows lengthened,  only one got up and walked away.

Waking up sucks. Getting to sleep is hard enough, but to be pulled from sleep and the first thing I remember is that? Yeah. Not fun.

I miss my Mom. More than I should. That isn’t quite as heartless as it sounds, I hope. It is just that I have never met her. I miss the idea of her. I just don’t know if I should give myself the luxury of missing her when I am lucky to have my brother and my dad. I miss that she might be able to help me deal with this.

We have one photo of her, before I was born, obviously. Her, Dad and Dep. Dad says I look like her ‘cept my hair is a bit lighter and my eyes darker. But it is Dep who gives me the most insight into her, I guess. Dad’ll catch an expression on his face, a certain look and he’ll say ‘There! That right there, that was your Mom!’ I don’t know how Dep feels about that, but he is stoic. At least he remembers her.

Me writing might seem like an anomaly. Bit of ‘dog walking on its hind legs’ type stuff. Diverting but unnecessary. There is a bit of a divide – old school says writing and reading are important. New school says it is a waste. I can see both sides of the argument, but when it comes down to it, I am glad I have this skill. I get to learn new stuff, about the old world and made-up worlds. It is pretty cool. And there isn’t anything else to entertain us, really. A lot of kids are missing out – Middle Earth, Panem, Hogwarts.

At first I was pretty embarrassed. None of my friends were doing it, but dad was insistent. Dep would tease me for using that word. ‘Just say “pain in the ass!”’ But he, like dad, loves reading and likes to bust the occasional multisyllabic word. ‘Just say “big” word!’ There he goes again, getting into my business.

The whole world is their library now. And dad says when things get back to normal, there will need to be writers again. Someone to tell our story. I wondered if I needed to write about the more boring, political stuff but dad said that should be left to the historians. He reckons he is going to give me writing ‘activities’. Great. Stay tuned for that excitement. I thought this was supposed to be my form of therapy. But whatever. Not as if I have much else to do after my daily jobs are finished. I can humor him.

It has been a week now. I can’t avoid talking about it forever. Maybe next entry. I’m not holding out. It is tough. I loved her.

Anyway. I realize that I haven’t introduced myself. You can call me Jay.