[ WP ] A story about a person in the post apocalyptic world slowly becoming jaded and losing their idealism

Day 7: 
 
 It's been seven days already. I was reluctant at first to actually write in this stupid thing, but the mayor convinced me it was for the best. And you know what? I think he's right! Maybe after all of this blows over and civilization is restored this will be one of the only memos documenting our struggle. 
 
 Day 12: 
 
 Bandits attacked the town again today, we managed to hold them off, but not without losing a few of our own. I wish I could say I grieve for them deeply, but I never knew them that well. I actually had to pick up a gun and fight alongside the militia due to a lack of men. I do n't think I hit anyone, but it shook me a little. I think I can rationalize it by realizing I did it to protect Clarissa. Yeah, that's what I'll do. The crops sure are growing nicely, looks like the soil is still plenty fertile for us to survive. I think we can make it here. 
 
 Day 20: 
 
 Those cowards did it again! Only this time they did n't even have the guts to face us directly. They threw a Molotov cocktail into the fields! By the time we got the inferno under control most of the crop was gone. Getting that field in order took months of work! Fuck! At least the burned crops can act as fertilizer for the rest of the field, and we can always try again. The important thing is that the well still holds. 
 
 Day 24: 
 
 Maurice tells us that there may be a larger town somewhere to the west, he thinks he spotted lights out over the hills. If this is true than that's amazing! There's still electricity somewhere out there! The group is divided over whether to investigate or not. The mayor and several others say it could be a trap, or that they may be struggling more than we are. The thought however seems to excite Clarissa, even as I write this she's talking my ear off about how excited she is over this. 
 
 Day 29: 
 
 Maurice and several others have finally gotten permission to investigate the source of the lights. Clarissa and I offered to go with them, but a few days ago she said that her period is late, and both the mayor and Maurice agreed she should stay here. God, I hope this turns out fine. I ca n't imagine having a child before we manage to get fully back on our feet. 
 
 Day 32: 
 
 Maurice and the others still are n't back yet, the mayor fears the worst. 
 
 Day 34: 
 
 Another fucking bandit attack! No matter how many we kill they just keep coming! This time everything has gone to shit, we do n't know what exactly it is, but they threw a body infected with some kind of disease in the well. We may still be able to salvage it for the crops, but it's undrinkable as it is. 
 
 Goddammit Maurice where are you? 
 
 Day 38: 
 
 We could n't salvage the well. They must have stuffed the body with something that kills crops. We lost what was left. There have been talks of leaving the town to go somewhere else. I'm inclined to agree with them. On a scavenging trip someone found an old testing kit for pregnancy. Clarissa is definitely pregnant. 
 
 Maurice is still not back. I think he either left us or died out there. 
 
 Day 45: 
 
 Shit, shit, shit, shit, FUCK! The bandits must have noticed we were short of manpower and came to finish us off. The mayor is dead. Most of the city is likely burned down by now. I've taken a gun and run away with Clarissa during the panic. Neither of us know where we're going. 
 
 Day 70: 
 
 We've been wandering so long. We've mostly stuck to skirting around the ruins of the city so we can scavenge *something*, but even that is running out. At night I hear more gunshots, and pray we're hidden enough. I fear for the child, but we have to keep moving, away from the city if we must. 
 
 Day 86: 
 
 We found a small, mostly intact town that looks untouched. We've been staying here for a while, just the two, no three, of us. Riding out the storm as best we can. 
 
 Day 91: 
 
 FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. Some dumbass traders came into the city and spotted us. They shot without even saying anything! They hit Clarissa, giving the excuse they though we were `` bandits''. Luckily one of them has some medical training, and he's looking after her. Please, God, if you can hear me, let her live. Please, just let her live! 
 
 Day 93: 
 
 The wound looks infected... this does n't bode well. 
 
 Day...: 
 
 Clarissa and the baby are dead. I've left the traders. 
 
 Day 126?: 
 
 I found some alcohol. Tonight I'll drink my pain away. I forgot I had this journal. I guess I'll update it. I've been moving so much trying to survive. I've killed a few people. Ammo is scarce. Food is scarcer. I do n't want to even think about water. 
 
 I miss her. 
 
 Day ~~~: 
 
 I'm drunk again. I do n't give a shit. I'm tired of it all. This journal is shit. This wasteland is shit. This food is shit. I feel like shit. My life is shit. 
 
 shit shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT. 
 
 Day I Do n't Give a Fuck Anymore: 
 
 This is my last entry. I do n't give a fuck about this journal anymore. Too many bad memories. From today on I live for myself, and only myself. 
 
 Clarissa used to tell me to look on this bright side. That I was too pessimistic. Well, look where that got me. 
 
 I'm a wreck. I'm a danger to everyone around me. I could n't protect her. 
 
 God, if you're even there and still give a shit, take me now!'Cause I'm going to survive. And when I die, I'm taking as many people who wronged me with me as I can.
