"The Last"

I stepped out into the bright sunlight. It seemed odd that the sky was clear and the sun was shining whereas down on the ground the world was destroyed. Everywhere I looked there were the bleached skeletons of the dead and the decayed remnants of buildings. There was a building nearby it was a scorched, blackish-grey colour. It had been red just a short time ago. I do in fact mean a short time ago. I had gone down to work on the fallout shelter and closed the door behind me. I heard my wife call my name turned to open the door then I just remember stepping out here. Did I lose consciousness? How long was I out? It can't of been this long. This place looks like it's been years. My house is still mostly intact gonna take a look. I doubt I'll like it but I have to find out what happened to my family. Maybe then I can find out what happened to the world.

The inside of my house was surprisingly well preserved. Unfortunately so were the bodies. I found them. My wife and kids. Their bodies, in the kitchen, sprawled together among some rotted pieces of wood that were probably a table. So confirmed their dead. I already knew that would be the case. I guess that's why I'm not as bothered as I should be. I mean you'd think I'd of been distraught upon finding them but really I just feel numb. Maybe it's just too much to take. Everyone is dead. The world has been destroyed. What is there left for me to do? I have food for some time but not forever.

Should I just end it now? There's probably not much chance of me surviving anyways.

Steven Larse

DAY 32

I went exploring. I brought some food and water and checked around the whole neighbourhood then spread outward eventually covering an area of... I don't actually know. I probably should have measured somehow. I know I left the city for a bit... I'm not sure how I found my way back actually.

I decided not to kill myself. Not for any real reason. I just can't do it. On day 12 I took a knife. Put it to my throat. I actually sliced in enough that it started to bleed but I just couldn't go any further.

I'm going to be here until I die naturally or at the hands of something else. I might as well learn what I can about what happened and what the world has become. Maybe there will be other survivorsor some new civilization living in the ruins. Hell, maybe there will be mutants or something that could end my suffering for me. I can only hope.

Steven Larse

DAY 119

I can't escape it. No matter how far I travel in to the wastes I always find myself back here. I tried to kill myself again just decided to wander off into the wastes with no food or water. After a few days I found myself back here and I couldn't keep myself from eating and drinking. I tried two more times afterwards with the same results. I must be unconsciously trying to live. Damn you subconscious stop saving me I don't want to live in this desolate world.

Of course the hope of survivors or any other living thing turned out to be a false hope. It was never very likely in the first place. Can't die... No reason to live. Just lonely oblivion forever...

Steven Larse

Day 274

I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know who I'm writing for. I don't care and there's no one who will ever read this. So why can't I stop? Everytime I venture out and come back I update this journal. It's like a compulsion. Maybe it's my subconscious again. Maybe I'm writing to keep myself sane? Or Maybe I'm writing because I've lost my sanity. It's just a meaningless routine that has etched itself compulsively into my diseased mind.

Sometimes I imagine I hear children laughing or my wife calling me like she did on that fateful day.

Steven Larse

DAY 4469

It's been years... I'm not sure how many I just know it's been more than ten. The last dregs of stockpiled food and water ran out today and almost immediately I found a supermarket close by that somehow has all the food fully intact. Even the perishables are still good. I could survive for another 100 years or so now. It's like the universe is mocking me. No matter what it won't let me die.

You know I think it's my birthday soon... I wonder how old I'll be.

Steven Larse

DAY 7056

I'm not so good at math. How many years has it been now? I don't know how I'm even keeping track of the days. Somehow I just know what day it is. My updates have been really jumpy. Entire years passing in seconds in this journal. The years feel like days to me. Time runs together in one huge clump. Only the night and day show the passage of time. I must be doing something to stave off boredom.

Steven Larse

DAY 16146

I walked from one side of the world to the other. Several times. I didn't bring any food or water with me. I just happened upon a convenient amount whenever I needed it. I'm only back now because my joints have started to lock up and I'm not sure I can continue much longer. I must be in my eighties by now. Gonna have to start stockpiling food and water for when I can no longer move at all...

Steven Larse

DAY 16644-Death Day

I can feel it. I've been stuck here for some time. Growing weaker with every passing day. I can tell this is it... This is the day I die. Alone in this forgotten world I've finally been granted my fondest wish.

Goodbye Marla, Eric and Stella. Goodbye and Hello I'll be seeing you all again soon. I only have one more journey to make. I'm going to die where I awoke. It just feels right. So I'm going back into The shelter. One last time.

Steven Larse

Having called her husband, and having received no answer for well over 10 minutes, Marla Larse opened the door to the shelter, where he had been working, to check on him. Inside she found only an old decrepit body clutching a journal in his hand.