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Welcome to 2613!
2613.01.20.

2613.01.20.

Finally, something good happened today! I caught a wild pig that was wandering around. I killed it with rocks. It was a very young one, probably only a few weeks old. Very skinny as well, not much meat. But better than nothing I guess. My stomach was finally filled for the first time ever since I ran away. My mouth is getting dry from all of those crackers.

I saved half of the pig for another time in the fridge (the bunker doesn’t have a working ac or canned food, but has a GODDAMN WORKING FRIDGE). I hope ma and dad are fine. They probably aren’t, they’re probably starving to death right now. The thought always unsettles me. They did sell me, but it wasn’t their fault. It was V12’s fault. There isn’t a cure for V12 either. I guess you can’t really have a cure for a psychological disease that is somehow contagious. V12 still seems so random and like something a god sent down to us. Maybe by the time you have read this, my dear readers, there would’ve been a scientific explanation for it, although this doesn’t seem scientific at all. Just seems random.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

I don’t know how long I’ll stay here. I hope not forever. This place isn’t very fun.