Dear Journal,

Okay, I admit that it’s been more than just one day since I last wrote in you. But hey, we can still pretend that it’s only been one day, right? Just like we can still pretend that it’s January? Hell, if I would have thought of this to start, we could have just pretended that none of this was happening, and I could have made up stuff about always going to the mall and hanging out with my friends. You would have really loved Brittany - she was always the most wordy of us, and she could have talked your ear off. But now, it feels like it’s too late, because if I were to go back and tear out the pages of this, anyone who saw it in the future would be like “huh, wonder what happened during the first week of this totally normal person’s life,” and we can’t leave someone in suspense like that, even if it’s kind of a jerk move to read someone’s journal without their permission.

But on the other hand, maybe it’s good to have some record of everything that’s actually happening. That’s what I’m going to stick with believing, because that’s what I want to be true, and that’s the sort of truth that can’t hurt you. Probably.

Mr. Williams is sick.

The night after I last wrote, I woke up to the sound of heavy coughing. I was the only one awake, so I thought maybe it was one of those situations where you think you heard something, but it was actually still just your dream, you know? But then I heard it again, and I knew I had to go figure out what it was. So I got up from my corner of the coffee shop and followed the noise to the little corner of overturned tables that we made to function as a private room for Mr. Williams and Hattie.

Mr. Williams was sitting up in their pile of old rags, coughing into his hand while Hattie rubbed his back as soothingly as she could with her way too fragile hands. I know I’m not a doctor, journal, but I can tell you that he definitely didn’t look like he was doing well. Like, his skin didn’t really look skin-colored, if you get what I mean? He was kind of gray, except for the red that was around his eyes. He looked like I felt when I hadn’t slept all night because I was worried about a test, only to find out that the test was even harder than I thought.

Hattie begged me not to tell me mom, which I totally understood - in any sort of zombie movie and whatever, you get that character that gets bit, and then tells everyone and they make them leave the group because they’re totally going to turn into a zombie. But here’s the thing I’ve always thought - you have no way of knowing that they’re going to turn into a zombie. Not really - even if others have done it before, there’s always that slim chance that they’re immune or something. But no, they make them get out just because it might be harder for the rest of them in the long run, and then talk about how the community is more interested in the safety of the community rather than the safety of one person. But what I felt like they never got is that, if their community is as small as theirs is, or as ours is, then losing one person can feel like losing the entire community.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Besides, as far as we can tell, the dead have no interest in coming back to life in the real world. Trust me, I’ve been around enough of them, and I’ve definitely gotten close enough for some of them to bite me, but I’m still here, safe and unbitten.

So, I told Hattie that their secret was safe with me. It didn’t really matter anyway - as soon as my mom got up in the morning, she heard the coughing for herself and went right over there. And, after a bunch of questioning that I couldn’t hear because they sent us teens out of the room, but that seemed to get everybody really upset for no particular gain, they decided that Mr. Williams was allowed to stay with us after all. I was so happy, I couldn’t believe it! Not that that really fixed much, because he was still practically dying, but still.

So the days since then, Jared and I have gone out and tried to find anything that might function as a medicine. It’s kind of hard, though, because even if I found something, I’d have no idea if it would help, and even though my mom is super smart, it’s not like she’s a doctor or anything. But we went out looking, hoping to find something, and we did! Not much, but we found a couple of bottles in what I’m pretty sure was someone’s house, given the random assortment of stuff we found in it. It’s so weird - some places we go to are completely burned down with not even a trace of the old building left, and some places look like there was maybe a little fire, but the building itself is still kind of usable. The house where we found the drugs was kind of in between that - charred enough that it felt like we were risking our lives by walking on the floors, but not so burnt that everything in it was destroyed. While there wasn’t a ton, there was at least some pain killers and something that looked suspiciously like Nyquil. We grabbed it all, plus some gauze and band-aids that had seen better days, but still might help if we get a cut or something.

I even managed to get a little something for myself! As we were leaving, I saw a ratty-looking throw pillow that looked like it’d been blown off a couch from the 70s. But it was the first pillow I’d seen in all my time out here, so I grabbed it immediately. I’ll have to beat it like ladies uped to do with old rugs if I want to be able to use it, because it’s kind of covered in soot from the fires, but it’s still amazing!

When we got home, my mom gave Mr. Williams the stuff that looked like Nyquil, and then we all sat up with him, hoping that he would get better. It helped a little I think, but by the time morning rolled around, he was back to sounding like he was trying to literally cough up his lungs.

My mom gave him another dose of the liquid, then pulled Jared, Bryce and I aside and tried to prepare us for the worst. Like we didn’t already know! That’s why we went looking for medicine in the first place!

We’d be able to find more medicine if my mom didn’t have this stupid rule about staying the night away from the coffee shop. We could go farther, and maybe we’d even find a full pharmacy that hadn’t burned down! But no, my mom’s more worried about keeping her control than about making sure Mr. Williams is kept alive.

Maybe we should just sneak out. I’ll run it by Jared and tell you what he says.

Love,

Kayla