The last of us

Thoughts of a hopeless soul

I’m trapped in this dystopian world where everything is broken and I am constantly fighting.

I’ve been wandering around for a while now, and have found others like me; but we’re all in dire straits: dirty, injured with few resources to survive.

And then, there’s them. A league of invaders, seeking out to kill us. They’ll chase us down and won’t be satisfied until we’re all eradicated. They are merciless and we have no real equipment to arm ourselves against them.

They’ll attack us with everything they’ve got and they’ll send everyone our way, even little girls. One of them slaughtered my whole family — just rammed and killed everyone, with no hesitation.

I fear for my life; a surprise attack may kill me any moment. All I can do is fight when I get the chance, to postpone the end.

I fear for my sanity; living in this condition makes my brain melt and my animal instincts surface.

I fear for my health; as my infection spreads… My skin has gone paler than I ever remember and I have started to have a limp in my walk.

I’m desperate, I’m in pain; and that makes them even more ruthless…

They call us the undead, but doesn’t that only mean we’re still alive?