March 28, 2022
He just slapped him. I still can’t believe it.
The day had started like any other day, it was an Academy Award like a hundred others. We were sitting there, me and my wife and my kids. Chris Rock was going on about whatever, entertaining the crowd, I was high so I don’t remember quite right, and then we see Will Smith walk up.
And it happens. Just like that. It’s a flash, an instant. Chris Rock is on the ground, they carry him away. security rushes in, but Will just looks at them, and they back off.
The crowd was speechless, we were all just looking like idiots, nobody did anything. Some screamed, some fainted, a few people felt sick and had to leave. They had moved Chris away, but there still was a splatter of blood, where it happened.
That night I went home in a daze, I didn’t sleep at all. Started writing this diary when it’s still dark outside, I don’t know why. I think I just needed to talk about it.
Will Smith grabbed that oscar and raised it, and it was covered in blood. I don’t think I’ll forget that image any time soon.
Fucked up. Hope something is done.
March 30
Having trouble sleeping, I keep dreaming of that scene. My wife is nervous, we keep fighting.
I’ve not been in contact with the others from the Academy but everybody is talking about it, my role in the industry is not very big so thankfully I wasn’t dragged into any of it, the trial should be in just a few days. They’re pulling all the stops. As they should.
Rock still in the hospital, they say his conditions are ok, publically. Haven’t heard anything from people in the know. I could ask, but I don’t know if I want to know.
There was a lot of blood.
March 31
Today I woke up with a headache and my pillow was wet. Wife says I’ve been crying in my sleep.
The coke helps.
April 2
The trial is starting tomorrow, but the news talks only about the murders. Three people in two days, killed by somebody bare-handed, all in Hollywood.
They’re not saying it, but everybody knows. They were slapped. Some Tabloids tried to blame Will but he’s under custody.
Still can’t believe it happened, I thought he was a nice person, we were not friends but I sort of knew him, never imagined.
Sometimes people surprise you in the worst ways. Still, the trial is tomorrow, hopefully, it will settle everything.
April 3
Unbelievable
Unbelievable
What the f was that travesty? Joke kangaroo court.
The trial begins and the judge is pale as a ghost, looks like they’re about to put him on the electric chair, and he just declares Smith innocent right away. Just like that.
Judge looks like he’s about to cry. Never seen anything like that. People start yelling, there is a commotion, Chris Rock (not present, but I’ve heard recovering) lawyer gets in Smith's face and one of the jurors gets up and slaps him. The entire room is frozen, everybody’s just looking at him and Smith and that jury weirdo, Smith smiles and just walks away. Like during the awards. Nobody does a thing. Nothing happens.
Police promise fire and brimstone, nobody believes them.
April 3, night
I just sat in my chair all day&night looking at a recording of the trial. I have no energy, stuff just washes over me today. Writing this even is hard. Wife keeps calling me, whatever. I have coke to finish.
April 4
Riots in the city, people protest against the trial and Smith, ofc, but some protest for him. Can’t even call them protests, it’s just violence. I’ve heard people got wounded, sirens went back and forth in front of the house all day long. Both ways. Heard some cars were burned, some deaths maybe?
Cops can’t handle shit these days.
A strange smell came in through the window late evening, Sore throat and eyes burning. I thought something was wrong with my coke. Later realized it was likely tear gas carried by the wind.
Just the thought is surreal.
April 7
We’ve decided my wife’s gonna take some time away from Hollywood, with the kids. For their safety. The atmosphere was getting bad, in our house but outside too. Shit’s weird, everybody is tense.
Feels strange not knowing what’s gonna happen. The solution seems obvious, lock up those bastards, but nothing moves. Don’t know what to do, will have to make some phone calls.
She’s moving with her sister in NY for a few days until things boil over. New Jersey. She wanted me to come, I told her I have work to do.
It’s true, there is a pile of paperwork on my desk, lots of problems with movies these days. Stuff is getting cancelled left and right; actors and workers arrested or wounded when they get into fights w people supporting Smith.
I’m not doing any of the paperwork but it’s there, it wasn’t a lie.
I tried to make a joke and said I’d rather get slapped than live in New Jersey. Bad idea. She looked at me in a weird way and just walked out with her stuff.
Never seen her make that face. When she comes back I’ll have to apologize.
April 7, night.
Our lead actor was found dead, so now all the paperwork is pointless if nothing else. Made a nice fire in the garden. Cops say it was a gangs thing. He used to be friends with Chris. Dunno what to think of it.
No news from the hospital.
April 9
Rock is dead. Not surprised. We were all there, we saw his grievous wounds. Still sad. Still weird.
Dunno if I’ll go to the funeral. President is in town tomorrow and he’ll be present for the funeral too, so it’s gonna be packed. Hopefully, they’ll start to crack down on this shit and bring back some order, the tear gas smell is getting annoying and my daily coke shipment was late.
April 10
Fuck
The worst thing that could happen happened. Never imagined things would escalate to this point. Have to write it down just to believe it.
The president starts speaking in front of half of Hollywood, never seen so many people. Behind him you can see black pillars of smoke, burning cars and dumpsters across the city.
Crowd start moving, the president ignores it but you can see his agents moving, in the background. People start screaming and booing. Some rush up the stage, out of nowhere. They are kept away, they try to get the president away, there is shooting, but it’s too sudden and they’re too many.
One gets to him, and he slaps him.
The president falls down, mouth open like a fish, dazed. The slapper gets riddled with bullets but it’s too late, the president gets dragged away pale as a ghost, looks like he aged twenty years right then and there.
The camera keeps recording the stage with bodies on it, then it cuts, talking heads try to talk about something else.
I feel like something just broke.
April 20
Sorry diary, never had time to update recently. Had to move, leave the house. Beverly Hills isn’t safe, mansions are getting ransacked, and my neighbourhood was getting pretty bad. Also got visited by some old friends that hadn’t talked to me in ages, they were real weird. Very off. Asked strange questions about the Will Smith situation and the whole deal. They noticed I had a picture of Chris Rock.
Moved out in a rush, getting all the money I had. I found a little apartment in Santa Monica. Landlady’s kind of a bitch but people don’t know me, and the other tenants are nice people. Things are calmer but I still hear the sirens all day long. Hopefully temporary. I hope my wife doesn’t send me mail, couldn’t tell her where I am rn.
I even brought my revolver, never used it in my life, and I don’t think I will. I feel kinda stupid, I just put it in a drawer by the door, but better than leaving it to be stolen.
Trying to get a ticket to leave but planes are grounded, may take a while.
April 22
Strange people going around these days: was getting groceries and then meeting my dealer behind the supermarket, but he wasn’t there. Instead some people in robes. I left right away, hoping they didn’t notice me.
Good thing it’s piss easy to find more here in Hollywood, even in these times.
Haven’t seen a cop in days, but the news says the situation is getting better and order will be back soon. Just a matter of days. Hope it’s true.
Met some of the other tenants, Emily, nice young lady, pregnant, in apartment 7, offered some tea to me and Mister Robert, he’s the old man from the apt next to mine. I get stuff for Mr Robert when I go buy groceries, he’s too old to do it himself. Nice to have a bit of a community here. Wish wife and kids were with me.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Shame the landlady is so annoying, but others don’t like talking about it. Whatever.
April 26
I killed somebody.
Landlady cornered me and started asking questions: who I was, if I was using my real name (ofc not) what my deal was. She noticed I had a wedding ring and wanted to know where my wife was. Why my room smells weird (doesn’t, I shower every day).
I was tired, haven’t been sleeping well recently, dreams have come back, so I yelled at her and may have pushed her. Was a bit high, don’t remember.
She pulls out a knife and threatens me, I laugh and open my apartment door. She throws down the knife and raises a hand. Palm open, fingers firmly held together.
I back away, slowly. Try to calm her down. Suddenly the high is gone, and I’m terribly cold. She keeps walking towards me, with that look.
The same look he had, at the awards. The same eyes.
I reach into the drawer, she doesn’t stop.
Shot her three times. She fell backwards, hit the wall and slumped down. Not a lot of blood, just some around the wound. She was just there like she was sitting down like she was drunk.
I stand here on my door, dunno for how long, gun in hand. Other tenants start to arrive, but they’re cautious. They’re scared. I dunno what to do, I just watch.
Mr Robert walks up to me, grabs my hands and starts crying. Says thank you. Says the landlady was terrorizing them, slapping them, they were terrified. They all say the same.
They say I saved them. Feels weird. I get back inside, get high and go to sleep. I hope I never get used to this.
April 29
Body’s still there.
We’ve made a bit of a committee (how do you write that word anyway?) to manage ourselves, the situation outside is only getting worse. Only a few of us go out to buy food for everybody, always carrying a gun. But we’re working together, so I’m feeling confident we’ll manage.
April 30
Unfortunate development: we had to kick out Emily. Rumours she had slapped somebody were going around. Some said she was spying on us.
Ridicolous, but couldn’t avoid it, having a fight among us would have been the worst. We just made her leave. Feels bad putting a pregnant woman on the street but I had no choice. Some of the others were adamant.
Emily stood out there screaming for 3 good hours before she left.
May 2
Today Bob didn’t come back. Yesterday I almost got hit by a car while coming back w groceries, driver seemed insane. Dunno what’s going on but this area isn’t safe anymore. May have to ask the committee (is this right?) to look for a new place where we can all move.
Finally convinced the others to throw out the landlady's body, it was starting to smell and I DON'T want to get sick and die in such a stupid way.
May 3
Yesterday I had to escape from the apartment. Never felt so bad in my life. They broke in during the night, just broke through the main entrance and started attacking people, dragging them out of their rooms. Heard Mr Roberts yell and them somebody shooting. I really hope he’s ok.
I locked my door, they started slapping it, I climbed out of the window. Heard the door crash down just as I got to the roof.
I’m carrying only what I managed to bring with me, mostly money, cocaine and some clothes. May have to come back in the night and see if I can get some of my stuff back after they leave.
May 3, night
They torched the whole building. Nevermind. Most media seems gone entirely. TVs and internet are cut. Unsure if from Santa Monica or the whole city.
Moving east. Need to find a way to get in contact with my wife.
May 8
I found an old apartment near Westchester, close to the airport. Was hoping to sneak out somehow but it’s no go, the whole place is destroyed, zero planes.
The city is in ruins. I hadn’t realized how sheltered I was in Santa Monica, entire neighbourhoods are abandoned, trash and burned car husks left on the streets, and grass growing through the road.
Anarchy. Most of the city is just lawless, with bandits and worse going around doing what they want, dead bodies have become a common sight.
I’m living alone, can’t trust anybody here. Lots of crazies. People going around with coke fiends eyes. But with no coke, unlike me.
Today I was going to scavenge an abandoned mart when this guy just runs up to me screaming, hands wide open. I shoot without even thinking about it, and nobody cares. The only other people in the street are gathered around a nutjob covered in tattoos dressed in rags wearing a necklace of what looks like severed hands, but I ain’t getting close enough to check.
Picked up my food and left. Bullets are running out but I’ve learned to be conservative with them. Turns out I’m a pretty decent shooter.
Still, the area is controlled by those fiends, way too dangerous. Will move out asap, since the airport is a dead end. Probably no updates for a while. This thing is really helping me keep my sanity straight. This and the coke.
May 30
I’ve moved even more westward, in an area not controlled by the slappers, and the difference is night and day. We’re hunkered down in an abandoned school and getting by pretty good. I can actually talk with people, like they’re normal humans. Roger is the leader here, he’s done a good job at keeping everything clean and in line.
We’ve got fences and even fields in the back, great place.
Before getting here I made a run through the old fashion district and scavenged some clothes I could trade, almost got slapped but managed, somehow. Worth it. They weren’t gonna let me in without something.
We’re 30 people but I think he used to be in the army or something and knows what he’s doing. He even has a priest come in once a week, for people that care about those things.
I’m not religious but the priest is fun to talk with, he’s kinda crazy. Maybe we all are, but he’s just a really weird guy, he lives alone in an
Cut my beard for the first time in weeks, I was starting to look like a hobo. Lots of gray hair, all this stress is gonna kill me first, if I don’t get slapped.
We’re in Boyle btw.
June 4,
Things go well, we’ve got a routine. Can’t complain. Trying to contact the outside world, but still no news from my wife and kids.
From what I hear, shit’s bad outside LA too, the president's popularity dropped to single digits after that slap and all kinda went to shit.
I was right, something broke that day, and things only got worse. The cracks were already there, but that was the last hit that made it all go to shit.
The country’s on fire, pretty much. Entire states have gone independent and nobody’s quite sure what they’re doing. Some are mounting up a resistance but against what? Against whom? Fear? People that will slap you? There is no enemy, no army, society’s just gone to shit and we with it. The government is all but gone, the army is doing what it wants but even they can’t keep their soldiers in check, it seems.
Roger knows some people and can get info, somehow. Not a lot but better than knowing nothing.
Only rumors but it sounds like lots of people are dead. Canada and Europe are no better. We’ve had no tv or internet for the last month so who even knows.
Good thing nobody is bothered by my coke, here. That also helped getting accepted into this group. Gotta do my part to help keep us alive.
June 7
Occasionally people leave or new ones arrive. Some are looking for friends or family, others have heard voices of safe zones and so on. More movement than I would have expected.
Some new ones arrived today and said there is a big group settled over the mountains, in Beverly Hills. The raiders and slappers had gone through and then left, so it was easy to take and fortify. Now it’s safe and well run, almost a thousand people.
Or so they say. I’m not convinced. But Roger has that look in his eyes, I think he’ll ask somebody to go there and check. Maybe we will all move there.
Or maybe we’ll be a couple of people short, tomorrow.
Not feeling good, but the dreams haven’t come in a long while, so that’s good. I talked about them only with the priest, the others don’t even know who I used to be.
We don’t talk much about the past unless it’s stuff that can help us live now. No point, it only brings up the pain. But the priest never judges, and he knows a lot of things. Speaks latin and greek, and is always jolly. I offered some coke and he refused.
Really weird guy. Easy to talk with.
June 11 or 12, unsure, hard to keep track sometimes
Last night we were talking around a fire, telling stories. We started talking about Smith. Nobody’s seen him since the trial, some say he was seen in Texas and later down in South America, slapping people left and right. Roger Says he has heard from a friend that he repented, he’s been spotted walking, barefoot, in the Sonora desert, preaching.
Others say he’s been dead for a long time, taken out at the beginning. Some say by the other slappers, but that’s just bull.
One of ours, Mickey (nice guy, twenty at most) had arrived just last week. He started acting strange when everybody was telling stories about Smith. Mickey didn’t laugh at the jokes and seemed in a bad mood, so Roger put a bullet in the back of his head and we threw him over the fence. Lots of wild dogs around, so the next day it was cleaned.
Can never be too careful with spies. I never liked the way he kept his hands, with his fingers firmly held together.
June 15
Roger’s got a bad case of dysentery (dissentery?), and some others too. The water around here isn’t safe anymore, some think the slappers did something weird around the pipes. Roger says it’s just stuff that happens, in these circumstances, and we can’t start being paranoid, but yeah. I dunno.
June 17
Finally got news from my family. They’re all alive, thank god. They had sent a letter to my old house and it somehow managed to arrive there, and the group that has taken over the area managed to get it to me.
The others here in the group looked at me weird, when they learned what I used to do, maybe they think I was Smith's friend or whatever. Anyway.
They’re all safe! They managed to take a boat and move towards Norway, seems like the government there curbed the problem right away, killed tens of thousands but they stemmed the problem and stabilized, and did much better than most other countries.
Apparently, up north it’s cold so you gotta wear mittens and people dress heavy, so it’s much harder to slap somebody. I’ll see if I can get a passage out of town towards the east coast, maybe I can reach them. Unlikely but I don’t have anything better to do.
Die here or die on the road, at least I got a shot. Probably gonna be my only one. As soon as Roger gets back I’ll ask. He has contacts with the army, or what’s left of it.
June 21
Roger’s not getting better, we asked for a doctor from other groups but nothing. Bastards. Apparently, Roger killed somebody that had a lot of friends around and now they’ve got a grudge against him. And all of us. We did nothing. Fuck.
Anyway, shit’s really bad right now. The others want to try and get to the big group in Beverly Hills, sounds idiotic, they’ll just kill us all, take us for spies.
I’m not going up there just to get shot. Maybe I’ll follow the priest, he keeps coming.
Sorry for Roger and the others, but right now they’re just dead weight. Feels bad abandoning them, 99% they die, but what can you do.
Gotta survive.
June 23
I really followed the priest. Just walked out behind him, no plan. I was joking at first but I said, why not? He gets around, he’s in the right direction. May as well. Maybe I can find a way out of town. The others are gonna leave tomorrow, not gonna stay here to say goodbye or whatever, I don’t think they like me anyway.
Coke’s starting to run low but we’ll make do.
To get to the church we had to go through Calvary cemetery and up almost at the end of Eastside, a little white wooden church. Nice place, all considered. Not too much damage in this area but it’s all abandoned and ransacked.
No idea how the priest managed to do this every week, there were a lot of slappers around, raiders, got shot at twice and almost slapped too. Managed barely.
June 25
I’ve made my little nest here in the church, the priest sleeps over the benches in an old army sleeping bag, he told me he was an army chaplain but I kinda got lost, he’s never too clear when he speaks. But really nice, he didn’t have any complaint about me staying.
June 26
Today I was sitting on the roof of the church just looking at the town. I’ve never looked at LA like this, in the early morning it’s really beautiful, the sky is blue and endless and it just goes and goes, and the city under it is like an ant nest, so many roads crisscrossing each other, and windows on the skyscrapers. There are a lot of trees growing, moss, vines, the whole thing. Half the city is carpeted in green.
There was a good breeze too. I looked at myself in a mirror, I could be a priest too, one of those Russian ones, at this point. My beard is gray and long to my chest and I’m starting to lose hair. I look ten years older.
June 28
Fuckfuckfuck
The coke is gone. That bitch ass fuck priest hid it. Says it’s bad. Taints my soul. What the fuck does he know. Idiot. What’s his problem?
J28
I’ve not been without coke this long since I was 19, Ithink im gonna go insane.
J29
Ok, still no coke, looked everywhere, threatened him, nothing. WELL.
July 5
Independence day, yesterday. Fireworks from Beverly hills area. Will have to move there I think.
July 30
Sorry, diary, haven’t talked with you in a while. I have not done many things I should have been doing. Sorry. I went through a pretty rough patch, but things are really looking good, I think.
Today I woke up refreshed, the air was crisp and there was a nice breeze in the morning, it gets hot stupid fast during the day but the night is just pleasant. The town is colder than it used to, be and silent, with no cars electricity etc. heating it up, mucking up all the nature.
The sky is beautiful today, and everything is silent. Just the birds and some barking dog. Nature. I thought the world was over, but really, it’s not, it’s maybe just us humans that are. We make so many problems for ourselves and where did it get us?
I’m over the cocaine, it’s all in the past, I’m glad to the priest, really. Honest. We’ve become pretty good friends, I like to think. I’ve been dreaming of that very strange day a lot, recently, when it all started. Back at the academy awards. Can’t believe it’s been only 4 months.
But the dreams were different, somehow. I just saw humans being silly and the futility of it all, I wasn’t scared anymore, it doesn’t make me cry, all I can think of is the sky and this nice city.
Anyway.
The strangest thing happened today, I looked at my hand. It’s not a thing you do, normally, right? I just started looking at it, the palm with all of its lines, I have calluses now. All the working and climbing. My hands were not like this, before, when I just made movies.
I wonder where my wife is. Norway must be a beautiful place, I bet the sky is even clearer. I should go there someday.
The fingers, five, long, all held together. Like little soldiers in a firing line. Like a row of skyscrapers. We’re all one, we, them, this whole world. It’s beautiful.
The priest was sitting down, whistling, heating a can of beans over a campfire he had made. The smell was so so good.
He was giving me his back and I had the strangest thought. I just looked at my hand, then at his head, and I thought.
Why not?
What does it matter? The world is what it is, being tied to old fears and laws and whatever, it’s all nonsense now, it’s all in the past. We live in the present, and we gotta live, so why not? What is so bad about it, after all? Just a little one, and then I will eat the beans that smell so good.
I looked at my hand and my fingers were shaking, I was sweating, but my mind was as clear as it can be. I felt light. Everything felt light. I turned it around, aaall the way around, until I could see only the back of my head, and my palm was just over his head.
It would be so easy. I raised my hand all the way up, until my fingers touched the sky.
The sky is beautiful today