Ode to Pestilence

“Hello. Uh, a lot’s been happening recently. I need to be organized about this though, or it’s just going to sound pointless. I’m gonna start with… dates, yes, dates. Today is August 17th, 1972. It’s my 43rd day in quarantine, and I figured I’d begin keeping a sort of diary-esque thing? Apparently it’s supposed to help with a lot of emotional issues, which I think I have. This whole disease thing has got me feeling really down lately. I don’t wanna catch it but… I just don’t wanna have to wait for my family to die. 
I still hear their voices through the door. They like to knock and then tell me about their lives - sometimes they don’t even know if I’m listening, and they say it. They let me know. One day, I know the knocking will just… stop. I’ll be awake, staring at the patterns in the ceiling and- day will turn to night, night to day, and there won’t be a trace, not a voice, not even a shadow under the door. I guess it’s just getting to me. Anyway, yeah. I’m probably gonna hit the head in a minute, but I just wanted to get that ball rolling. Goodnight, me.”
“Hey again, it’s the 52nd day of my quarantine. It should be August 26th now, but I don’t think counting the date does much for me anymore. I mean, I’m not a farmer. I’m not keeping up with dates to keep my crop alive or learn what to plant, I’m just doing it as a hobby. Worst case scenario, it tells me when to stock up on more water. But more than just water aside, I went outside last night and when I went into my son’s room. He was deathly pale. His eyes were accompanied by vividly discolored eye bags. He coughed, hacked up some blood, and I had to leave.
But when I went to exit the room, I heard him say something. ‘Dad, don’t leave’, that’s what he said, if I remember correctly. 
But I knew I had to leave. I, his father, had to leave my dying son alone in the dark crying. I hate myself for it. I heard footsteps thudding across the floor, so I held the door shut. He pleaded with me to come in there and spend time with him. He kicked the door and rattled the knob and slammed his head against the doorframe angrily. Then I heard Alice getting out of bed, so I quickly ran back to my room and locked the door. I heard them talk some, and then I heard her come up to my door and say, ‘If you aren’t going to come out to spend time with us, and you’re going to disturb us while we try to sleep, just leave this family alone. You aren’t his father anymore, and you most certainly aren’t the man I married’. 
I think she went to bed after that, but I just can’t sleep. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t know why he had to tell me they were going to die, I don’t know why he had to take them away from me. I wanna just hit my head on the wall and die. I want to die. You have no clue how much I want to die, but for some reason, I don’t. I want to die, yet I don’t, and I can’t figure out why. Maybe I’m just a freak, just a wuss. I know one thing for sure though, I need a drink. I’m gonna go steal a bottle of liquor or something, I’ll be back.”
“I spoke with him again. He told me it’s happening soon. Their time is near.”
“Hello again, uh…I stopped counting the days in quarantine. My wife and son stopped coming by. I’m sure they’re just trying to forget about me. I hear them talk outside of my room, but it’s almost always a shouting match. She tells him to do something and then he resists, they go back and forth and then I, a source of contention, pop up in the conversation inevitably. He says he hates her for driving me away, but that’s not even close to right. My only friends in here’ve been Jack Daniels and a knife, but I just don’t wanna keep living like this anymore. 
My life’s been falling apart ever since that guy showed up, flaunting his stupid ‘I know what’s gonna happen.’ stuff. I’m sure you do, I’m sure you do. You know exactly what’s really gonna happen. Maybe he wants to replace me. Maybe he’s just getting me out of the picture so he can hit on my wife or something. I don’t care anymore, they all detest me. I’ve ruined them, and he’s ruined me, so it all comes back to him. Next time I see him, I’m gonna stick a bullet between his eyes. I’m just gonna shoot him, that’s how much I hate him. He has done nothing to help me, or my family. Anyway, yeah. Harvey, I want you to know how dead you are to me. I would rather have a massive tumor in every lobe of my brain, crushing my neurons into bits and pieces, than hear another word from your mouth. You’re dead.”
“I can’t stay here for much longer, I’m going insane. I think… yeah, I think it’s all over. I can’t go out there anymore, I can’t face my wife, I can’t face Jordan, there’s nothing left for me here. Maybe if I travel far away, I can finally escape this burning pile of trash that’s becoming my life. I’ve been a disappointing father, an utter failure. I’m done, the next time I make a diary entry, I promise you- It’s my last. Goodbye.”
“Holy… It’s all over. He wasn’t kidding, he wasn’t trying to hit on my wife, he wasn’t trying to do anything malicious. They’re dead. They’re all dead. My family is still where I found them. Their bodies have been contorted in such unnatural ways, and their eyes. Their eyes are red from blood. They look terrified, I can’t even fathom it. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know. I can’t know, I’ll never know. And the worst part is, I think there’s more. I think all of humanity is like this, I think something seriously wrong has happened here. But that doesn’t matter anymore, none of it matters. Harvey, you’ve redeemed yourself in my eyes, but that doesn’t change what I’m about to do. The lights of my life are dead, and there was nothing I could’ve done. The despair and the helplessness did it for me, and I’m throwing in the towel. I’m logging off, good riddance.”
Category:Beings
Category:Diary/Journal
Category:Mental Illness