No Rest For The Wicked
by
Houston Rogers
© 2010
//:Log for - September 2nd, 2152
//: Author – Nathan GrolenI can't believe I found this journal under the rubble in what's left of my room. I would have thought that it would be unusable, burned to a crisp or torn apart, but I was wrong. I've got a couple good pages left in this mess, so I ought to use them. Write down my thoughts, if only for my own comfort. No one will ever read this.
I'm sitting here in the hallway outside my room, in the little house on the edge of the colony. I suppose the placement of my house is what saved me from the blasts, but barely so. The rest of my family died. They were either killed by the creatures before the bombs fell, or destroyed by the fire dropped from the skies. I'm alone here. At least, I think I am... I haven't attempted to go outside for a few hours. It's dark right now; the air is still, the moon hidden behind the clouds. I don't have much in the way of protection. The roof and majority of the walls were destroyed in the explosions. I have a few nicks and cuts myself, and I think my ankle is broken. A large chunk of concrete broke through the wall and landed on my foot. It's all swelled up and it hurts when I walk on it. Maybe it's just really bruised...
My girlfriend is dead. She was all I had left after the things tore my father apart. My younger siblings had been at the local public school for classes. They're probably dead too. Somehow, my father had it the easiest. It was a quick death, I believe. That's the best way to go. My girlfriend died slowly and horribly, being impaled through the middle by a large piece of glass from our living room window; the one that looks out onto the street. Or what was the street. I was only out for a few moments just after it happened. I wish I would have been out longer... just so I wouldn't have had to see her die...
She had held my hand after I made my way over to her. I remember that she tried not to cry, that she did her best to stay strong even in the face of death. I had thought that maybe removing the glass would help, but even the slightest bump gave her intense pain. So I waited and waited. I kissed her cheek. I smelled her blood, her sweat, and the weak scent of her perfume that she'd put on that morning. We had planned on going out that night.
It was painful for both of us, and I won't deny that I... wanted to help her along. Just to spare us both the horrible agony of waiting for death and knowing that each passing second is worthless. I would love to argue that I'm going to have a life after this, and that the memories of my time with her, both before the bombs fell and in the dark hours afterward, would mean something... but they don't. I'm not going to be living long, so why both keeping memories?
She told me she loved me before she drew her last breath.
Fuck them all.
//:Log for - September 4th, 2152
//: Author – Nathan GrolenBetrayal is a horrible feeling, you know. Knowing that a friend or a close loved one has turned their back on you, well, that's just about the worst thing in the world. Now imagine this: being betrayed by your entire species.
I suppose that it could be argued that there was no other way, but that doesn't disregard their utter lack of care for fellow human life. The day we opened the caves and discovered the alien nest, that was bad. The following days and weeks, when the alien horde grew stronger and then launched a major attack against our colony, well, that was bad too. But we could have been saved, right up until they overran our defenses and swarmed over our colony on that fateful morning, a few days ago. The UPSM knew about it; they'd been keeping an eye on our little residential area for a couple weeks. And then, when the surprise alien attack came, the military moved in. But not to save us...
No, they damned us all.
The bombs dropped that afternoon; a cascade of fire and shrapnel and utter hell. They destroyed the aliens, destroyed our crops, destroyed our homes, and destroyed our people. I would find it hard to believe that more than a handful of us are still alive. Most would say that they were lucky... I'm not lucky. I wish I was fucking dead. For some reason, though... I still cling to life.
Humanity... we're always looking for an enemy among the stars. We refuse to believe that we're the only ones out here in this galaxy. And while that is true, we're not the only thing out here... we need to stop looking elsewhere for a threat. The greatest, deadliest of threats lies within ourselves. I am a living testament to that... but not for much longer, I believe. I'm getting weaker and the number of edible things left in the pantry is low.
//:Log for - September 7th, 2152
//: Author – Nathan GrolenNo food left. I ate the last of it this morning, and I was already losing strength before that. Has it really been a week since the bombs fell? My digital watch says so, but my mind says otherwise. Time is funny here.
I'm tired. I remember reading a story once where a character said something about “when the moment comes for me to just sit down and rest a while, I will.” And he did just that. Just sat down... and rested. Maybe that's what I'll do... curl up against the wall and go to sleep and... just forget everything.
I don't know if anyone is ever going to find this. I don't really care if they do... this isn't a message to anyone, just... an outlet. Something to pour my last words into.
Her hand is cold, but it brings some comfort. I know that I'll see her soon.
I'm going to close my eyes now. Don't feel like writing anything else.
Good night.
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