Peggy's Journal Entry Four: My submission to Boney G's Jour

Thriller written by Madhatter on Tuesday 3, February 2015

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Description
A writer that used to roam the Den named Boney G, started a Journal written during the time of the Zombie Apocalypse, He asked different writers to add en entry to the journal, with their take on character(s). This was a fun exercise and really challenged. I miss some writings that are long gone.

Overall Rating: 73.4%

This writing has been rated by 2 members, resulting in a rating of 73.4% overall. Below is a breakdown of these results:

Concept/Plot:90%
Imagery:90%
Spelling & Grammar:49.5%
Flow/Rhythm:48%
Vocabulary:89.5%
October 25th 2010 As I write, my hands are trembling. This journal belongs to a girl named Peggy, but she isn't the only one to have written in it. It seems, according to this journal, that Peggy has died, and not just Peggy. It appears that everyone who has recorded in this journal has met the same fate. I can't help but feel that this journal is going to be my demise. Maybe if I don't say my name, my fate will be different. I am really scared, but not because of the words I have read. I wish that was the cause of my fear. I am scared because the words in this journal confirm what I have seen. Who am I kidding? This journal has nothing to do with whether I live or die. I have seen so much death these past days. It's a miracle I am still alive. Well here goes... My name is Mary Johnson and I am 22 years old. My birthday is October 31st. I have always hated that my birthday landed on Halloween, but now I can't wait to see the day I used to dread. Just let me live to see my birthday, please God, just one more birthday. The city seems deserted, but if you listen closely; you realize it's alive with the sounds of death. I can hear them all around me. The sweeping noises as they walk up and down the street. Their voices are inaudible, it sounds like they are in constant pain; moaning over and over again. There is hardly a moment of silence. They never sleep. They are always roaming, looking for the next...there are so many of them. I don't know how much longer I can last. I can smell them too. The stench is hard to ignore. It's a putrid, foul, disgusting smell that blocks my senses. I can't taste or smell anything else; nauseousness makes it hard to keep food down. Sometimes the stench even causes my eyes to sting. Common sense kicks in when the smell is especially strong; hard to believe that I can decipher when the stench is strong, but I do, and when I do, I know they are close. I am on the move during these moments. I believe this is the reason I have managed to stay alive, even when people around me couldn't. I have been living in my grandmother's attic for a number of days now, and have managed to stay safe. The attic is designed with a pull down ladder. Maybe that's the reason why I haven't been found. They haven't figured out how to pull the ladder down. I try to leave the house as less as possible, for fear of being discovered. Well, that's not the only reason. it's hard to walk down the hall to get to the front door. It's not a very long hall, but I have to pass my grandmother every time I leave. That's not my grandmother. It's what's left of her. This was the first place I ran to, after escaping from my parents house. My parents...I couldn't help my parents. I wanted to, I really did. I can still hear my Dad's screams. Oh Dad...you were no match for that.... Before I knew what was happening this human; No, it wasn't human, it was something other than human. Something other...Yes, that's what they are, not human, but Others. One of the Others grabbed my dad like he was a rag doll, pulling him close and biting down with It's disgusting mouth. I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut. I was in a panic. My Dad's screams, he didn't sound like my Dad. His screams didn't sound human. If hell is real than this is what is sounds like, echoing screams of torturing pain. When I opened my eyes, I saw that half of my Dad's face was eaten off, and this Other still clutching Dad's body, without an ounce of emotion on It's corpse like face. I can't get this image out of my head. All I see is the Other chewing on my dad's face, skin dangling from it's rotting mouth. That's all I see! ...and my Mom. Why didn't I gather the courage and walk into the kitchen to help my Mom? I'm such a coward! I couldn't save my Mom! I was paralyzed by the sound of her screams and the crunch of her bones as the Others ravaged on her body. They treated her like a dead animal! I'm such a coward! I didn't help them. I just ran, all I did was run! I never looked back, I never looked back! I'm so sorry Mom and Dad... I'm so sorry. It wasn't a choice to come to my grandmothers house, it was instinct. My subconscious mobilized my body to run here. My grandmother only lived a few blocks away from us, but it was the longest run of my life. As I ran, I glanced around my surroundings and saw a bloody massacre. Puddles of blood, streams of blood, everywhere blood. I tripped and fell a few times trying to dodge the many body parts scattered along the road. The houses were a shell of their former glory. Broken windows, doors, and furniture tossed around; and those...Others...three of them were hunched like vultures over a toddler, shredding the child's flesh; blood and flesh splattering everywhere as they dined. When I finally reached my Grandmothers home, I swung the screen door open and stopped in my tracks. Right before my eyes was a mutilated mess. My grandmother was dead. Her body ripped apart. If I wasn't familiar with her clothes, there is no possible way I could've known who had suffered such a agonizing death. Those horrendous Others spared nothing. They were hypnotized, eating her flesh as if it were their last meal. One of them had decided it was done and just threw her gorged torso to the floor. Another one was gnawing on her hand, chewing the fingers like gum. I don't know where the rest of her was. Her head was missing from her torso...her head. I felt my legs weaken. The shock of everything was hitting me right there in the doorway of my grandmothers house. I was light headed and my breathing shallow. I knew I was going to pass out. The Other that threw my grandmothers torso down noticed me and started moaning profusely as he walked towards me. He walked as if half of his body was paralyzed, mimicking the movements of a stroke victim. Surprisingly he didn't walk very fast. This might of been to my advantage, except that I was already in the process of passing out. My legs gave out from underneath me, and I fell on my knees to the floor. I grabbed the door frame to keep myself from falling flat on my back, but dizziness was overtaking my balance and vision. He continued walking towards me, his figure stepping into a hazy cloud. He still wore the remains of his former self. The corroding figure had been some type of professional before he became this...Other. He wore a dark blue suit, and a button up white shirt. Even through the haziness, I could tell the suit was tattered and filthy. He was a few feet away from me, when I realized if I didn't do something fast, I was going to die. I screamed with all my might, trying to jolt myself from slipping into darkness. It worked, the hazy cloud was dissipating into clarity. ...but I miscalculated, it wasn't feet, it was inches. He was only inches above me glaring his saliva filled decaying teeth. He grabbed one of my legs and pulled it up to his mouth. I mustered all the strength I had in me and swung my other leg at his head, kicking his jaw, causing him to release his hold on me. Something snapped. When I looked at his eroding face I noticed I had kicked his jaw completely off. During this time his buddy began coming towards me as well, but it was too late. I was on my feet, and out the door, running for dear life. I don't know if they followed me. I dodged in and out of every corner, turning this way and that way, making sure they couldn't follow me. I wandered the streets for days after that, at least I think it was days. Everything seemed so muddled together at the time. All I remember is hiding. All I did was hide; in dark corners, dumpsters, abandoned buildings. Everywhere I could, I hid. I never stayed in the same place for too long, and I never slept. Exhaustion became my enemy. I was almost caught a few times, because of this enemy. I had come to a point where giving up didn't sound so bad. I didn't know how much longer I could run. My will was breaking. I felt like I was losing my mind. Then I stumbled upon this journal. Woven between the words of terror was hope. These people had hope that someone would stop this madness, thus their recordings. I couldn't give up, but I couldn't wander the streets either. I needed to find a safe place to stay. The attic. I remembered my Grandmother's attic. I used to play up there often as a little girl. It was my castle, my haven, a place where monsters weren't allowed; and it was the safest I could think of. If there is one thing I have learned in my wanderings through the town, it's that the Others didn't stay in one place for too long. The chances of them still being in my Grandmothers house was next to nil. ...and I was right. When I made it back to my Grandmother's house a second time, it was deserted. Well, not completely deserted. In the hallway, still lay my grandmothers dismembered corpse. October 27th 2010 It's been relatively quiet, that is if you ignore the occasional moan and shuffle. I'm getting used to their noises; Actually, that's not entirely true. As long as the noises stay a distance away, I am able to cope; it's when they are close that fear trickles up my spine. The attic has one window, and I find myself peeking out of it quite a bit. I keep hoping someone will come to rescue me soon. I can't lose sight of this. It keeps me going. I pray I am not the only one alive, but honestly this town feels like a deserted graveyard. The streets are stained with the blood of once was. Still, there has to be a remnant out there. I can't be the only one alive... I can't. I don't understand it. Why doesn't anyone come? Another town has to have heard what has happened here. Someone must of escaped this slaughter house. There has been too much bloodshed and infection for this to be ignored. Where is our military? The good guys? Why isn't our government meddling now? A thought just occurred to me... What if were not the only town infected? Is this happening in other places? Is that why no one has come to help? Stop... I can't think like this. I have to have hope. I can't let my mind wander. I need to sleep... October 28th 2010 I have to venture out today. I hope I can find food without having to search too far away from the house. I wish I didn't have to do this, but I can't let myself deteriorate. I am also low on water. Hopefully I can find enough food to last a couple of weeks. There are some houses a couple of streets down, that I haven't searched. God please protect me, don't let the Others see me. If I don't make it back, if this is my last entry, hopefully it's because I have been rescued. If you come across this journal, and you are hiding as well. Please record everything, don't lose hope, don't give up. Someone will rescue you. You have to believe this. Don't let the Others win October 30th 2010 I finally made it back, and found enough food to last a week at least. I had to venture farther than I wanted to, but I am thankful I found food and that I am still alive. It was tricky getting into attic again. There were about five Others that decided to rummage this street again. I thought they would never move on. I hid in some bushes and waited. It was a long wait, but they finally did move on. I waited till dark before creeping back in. I am always scared to move around in daylight. Tomorrow is my birthday, and I am so elated that I get to see another birthday! I am going to turn 23! I am going to...wait a minute. Why didn't I notice it before? How could I miss this? The smell...... How could I not notice the smell? I am continuing to write as I search the attic. I don't know If a Other is in this room, but if there is I want to record as much as possible. I am trapped where I am standing. I am in the farthest corner away from the pull down door. I have to somehow make my way out of this corner, but where are they? I can't see, it's too dark up here. The only light is the moonlight from the window, it gives enough light to see the words on these pages, but nothing more. The attic is a huge room and the moonlight doesn't extend far enough to light it. Maybe my senses are playing tricks on me. It isn't possible for them to climb the ladder. It isn't...It..It can't be. ...but the smell, it's so strong. Oh God, please help me... I hear it... The sweeping noise...I hear it! I have to get out of here...my legs...I have to move. I can't panic! My eyes have adjusted to the shadows in the room and I can see them. There are two of them and they are walking my way. The moonlight reflects off of their monstrous faces, magnifying the evilness they exude. Right now this journal and pen are my only weapons. I know I am going to die, I can't see a way out, but I have to fight...Oh God...I don't want to die...I don't want to die.. Oh God... please...ple
   

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Comments

    I remember the 'bonemeister's Peggy's Journal, Hatter. It really caught everyone's imagination. But I can't remember reading this one, and I would have because it was excellent.

    You manage to combine Mary's fear of death so subtly with everyone's fear of change, which is really what world catastrophe tales are all about, really.

    Just a minor fault I noticed. On a couple of occasions you say 'must of' when it should have been, 'must have'.

    And to finish, I think one of the best lines is when Mary asks: 'why isn't our government meddling now?'

    Great work, mad lass.
    Thank you Mr Kosy! I always appreciate the time someone puts aside to read my attempt at writing...hehe. OooOooo I shall do some editing!!! Glad for the critique 😊
    You had me the moment i realized zombies were present.lol I liked the overall tone of it, you could really get a sense of her mental state, and the loneliness. One thing did stand out a little. "Their voices are inaudible, it sounds like they are in constant pain; moaning over and over again." Maybe switch the comma and semicolon. Not sure though, take it with a grain of sand. Few other grammatical mistakes here and there but nothing to distract from the good story. It begs you to keep reading. Love it.
    I really appreciate you taking the time to read it.... I will definitely do an edit read through. Appreciate the critique! Smile
    I remember the journal, and I think I even contributed. I hope it comes back.

    Excellent imagery here. Nice job.
    Thanks KT. 😊 it would be nice to have a challenge like this again.
    Amazing, MH! I'm really glad you posted it and we could read it again.
    Thanks Asarte! Glad you liked it again. Smile
    Really enjoyed reading this. Even though this genre has been done to death and there was nothing new in the plot line, the reality of the character drew me into that world and I had to know what happened next.