Shias Log: Day 15 by Timothy Alan Lyrics
Day 15. November 6, 2012. 11:45 am.
You know what? I will NOT beat myself up about this! I don’t deserve to feel guilty. I did what I had to do for the betterment of myself and my family, and I will NOT feel any sort of remorse for that. How dare I feel sorry? Yes, I’m sorry it had to happen to someone that Elliot had grown close to, to someone so young and lost, who will never have the chance to grow old. Of course I am. But that is not the same as feeling regret. Let me be very clear. I have NO regret for what I did. NONE! If you see this as heartless, I’m sorry, but I’m done feeling like everything is my fault. It’s not. It’s just what happened. I did what I thought was right, and at the end of the day, at the end of this whole thing, my views on that won’t change. I didn’t want this kind of life, okay! I didn’t want to make the decision that I made, and I hope to God and whoever else resides in heaven that I will never have to make that type of decision again for as long as I live, but so help me, I’m going to make the best out of a bad situation. I’m going to do whatever it takes for the safety of both of us… because that’s what people do. It’s what people do, and it’s what I’m going to do. Nothing will come between me and my brother. No person will come before our survival, young or old, under ANY circumstance. We're all we have left. And if I can’t survive, I’ll die to let my brother live on. End of story. There isn’t any loophole in this world that can make me feel differently. Now, we’re out of food, so I’m going outside to get more. And if I have to fight a million zombies to make sure my brother doesn’t starve, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.
11:11 pm.
I cried my eyes out today. I let out fifteen days of well-deserved, quiet tears after what I wrote earlier. And then I grabbed my bookbag, snuck to the supermarket down the street, and planned to do the same thing I did before, except twice as sneakier because of the daylight.
It’s so different out there. I grabbed my knife ready to defend myself in case it was needed, but it was deserted. No loud noises, no nonsensical yells, no half-eaten bodies in the street. It was completely empty, even the supermarket. I could’ve walked through the front door and nothing would have been any different. How long has it been like this? I never had to go outside more than a few times, but what could have happened in that short time that caused this? Something doesn't feel right, and my gut hasn't let me down yet. I counted as soon as I got here and we have forty-eight cans this time. Food won’t be a problem in the near future.
What’s happening? Did they leave? Is it over? No. It’s not over. I’m not sure what’s going on, but there is an explanation for it. I’ll have to figure it out in the morning. Elliot, I hope you’ll be okay, because I have a feeling I’ll be gone for most of tomorrow.
In Sherlock Holmes mode, Shia.
You know what? I will NOT beat myself up about this! I don’t deserve to feel guilty. I did what I had to do for the betterment of myself and my family, and I will NOT feel any sort of remorse for that. How dare I feel sorry? Yes, I’m sorry it had to happen to someone that Elliot had grown close to, to someone so young and lost, who will never have the chance to grow old. Of course I am. But that is not the same as feeling regret. Let me be very clear. I have NO regret for what I did. NONE! If you see this as heartless, I’m sorry, but I’m done feeling like everything is my fault. It’s not. It’s just what happened. I did what I thought was right, and at the end of the day, at the end of this whole thing, my views on that won’t change. I didn’t want this kind of life, okay! I didn’t want to make the decision that I made, and I hope to God and whoever else resides in heaven that I will never have to make that type of decision again for as long as I live, but so help me, I’m going to make the best out of a bad situation. I’m going to do whatever it takes for the safety of both of us… because that’s what people do. It’s what people do, and it’s what I’m going to do. Nothing will come between me and my brother. No person will come before our survival, young or old, under ANY circumstance. We're all we have left. And if I can’t survive, I’ll die to let my brother live on. End of story. There isn’t any loophole in this world that can make me feel differently. Now, we’re out of food, so I’m going outside to get more. And if I have to fight a million zombies to make sure my brother doesn’t starve, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.
11:11 pm.
I cried my eyes out today. I let out fifteen days of well-deserved, quiet tears after what I wrote earlier. And then I grabbed my bookbag, snuck to the supermarket down the street, and planned to do the same thing I did before, except twice as sneakier because of the daylight.
It’s so different out there. I grabbed my knife ready to defend myself in case it was needed, but it was deserted. No loud noises, no nonsensical yells, no half-eaten bodies in the street. It was completely empty, even the supermarket. I could’ve walked through the front door and nothing would have been any different. How long has it been like this? I never had to go outside more than a few times, but what could have happened in that short time that caused this? Something doesn't feel right, and my gut hasn't let me down yet. I counted as soon as I got here and we have forty-eight cans this time. Food won’t be a problem in the near future.
What’s happening? Did they leave? Is it over? No. It’s not over. I’m not sure what’s going on, but there is an explanation for it. I’ll have to figure it out in the morning. Elliot, I hope you’ll be okay, because I have a feeling I’ll be gone for most of tomorrow.
In Sherlock Holmes mode, Shia.