Scared.

Shit. I've said for years the only thing I'm really, truly scared of is Zombies. They don't feel, they don't think, they don't STOP. So instead of a clean nuclear-war-end-of-the-world, I'm sitting in my house, duct tape over the windows, waiting to be eaten to death. Or starve, whichever comes first.

Remember a few weeks ago, when the meteor was spotted over Canada? The little town wiped out (or so we thought), and a few news stories on it because it was so weird? I, grand conspiracy theorist and general Paranoid, thought "Oh, man, what if it's like (insert zombie movie here)?" I've always been like that - filled with a perverse desire to wake up to a world FUBAR, if only to see what my reaction would be. Has it helped me? I don't know.

Right now, totally insane but calm. M is here with me, and I have no idea where his dad is. It's been three days since people started turning in Madison - we haven't seen him since Monday morning when he dropped M off at my place for the day - although the stories were starting by then, he couldn't risk missing a day of work, he said. He called that afternoon to say he and some co workers were heading out in the work van and he'd try to get to my house. But so far, nothing. All the times I wished he were dead, I feel sick now. I hope - - never mind. I can't finish that sentence - it only comes out sounding worse each time.

Palmer got here yesterday - his roomies never came home from Portage on Sunday, and he finally gathered up his dad's old revolver and a few bb guns Stevie had and drove over here. I cried for about an hour when he showed up - I started when I heard his car with that loud muffler coming down the street and couldn't stop, even when I felt like I was suffocating from crying so hard. He's been trying to reach his mom and brother in Chicago, but so far, nothing. He's been really quiet today, withdrawn. He's been rationing his cigarettes - I always wanted him to quit, but this is not how I envisioned it.

We've got our half-assed survivalist stuff out - bathtub full of potable water, garbage bag toilet downstairs (it already stinks). I brought the gas can in from the garage on Monday when the first reports came in. And whatever would be a good weapon. The garden tools are lined up by the back door. The downstairs windows are criss-crossed with duct tape and the patio door is covered with a piece of plywood. Kept me busy Monday night. It's crazy - this doesn't seem real - nearly everything I've done is cribbed from some movie or another.

M is being pretty good, but he isn't really sure what is going on. I've always been pretty frank with him, but I don't know what to say now. And D? He's in New York with his dad - we talked Sunday. I have a feeling they are going to be okay (I decided to be positive *and* expect the worst, because I'm good). His dad's got a warehouse setup, so they have steel doors and plenty of space. The phones haven't been working out there, I guess, we haven't gotten through . I'm pretty amazed we still have electricity. I wonder if anyone else will see this entry or if it will be stuck on my computer forever.

My neighborhood is so quiet, it's eerie. My neighbors to the right took their teenagers and drove off on Tuesday, my neighbor to the left hasn't come out of her house at all as far as I can tell. The TV is still flickering in her den. Dog across the street has been howling. Do dogs turn into zombies if they get bit? We've been hearing helicopters sometimes, but no planes since Monday night. Two TV channels still broadcasting, but just a plain picture, no news. Radio? Static, but we are checking it.

Food is getting harder to figure out.For once my keeping too much food in the house is actually a good thing. And Palmer filled a duffel full of food from his house as well. We have been eating all of the fresh stuff and when that's gone, working on the freezer. Every day I figure is one day closer to having no electricity. I've got the batteries charging, for my walkman, so we will have a radio when that happens, but only for a few days. Trying not to worry about what I can't change. All the stuff I'm usually consumed with worry over: money, school, the state of the world; none of it bothers me now. Nothing matters now, except staying alive - no, staying SAFE and alive. That's what matters.

Tonight I'm getting out "Shaun of the Dead" and seeing if it makes me laugh or weep. And I'm drinking. The bar in the basement has plenty of booze.

I'm scared.

If you are out there, let me know.

P.S. You know what? I've been thinking about what scares me more: being killed by a zombie, or BEING a zombie? I don't believe that we are conscious after we die (no afterlife), but I don't know if some of our consciousness remains after we are infected or whatever. I hope not.

BLITEOTW