The Dumpster Diary, Jrnl. 2

As i awoke i could hear the sounds of feet scraping and sliding against the ground outside...

Every couple of hours i hear a scream,
a bump against the walls of the dumpster,

But the one sound that stays constant is the sound of hell spilling out into our imperfect world.

My wrist watch is broken, but judging by how cold it is, im guessing it's early morning.
I look inside of my workbag for some breakfast. I take a bite from my bagel and chew it for as long as i possibly can then i put it back. It's stale, but there's no flies or maggots on it so it's good enough...
I've been hearing some strange noises lately, and considering the situation i'm in, to call this noise unusual, well, that means trouble.
It sounds like a man, a very fat man. He stomps when he walks and he constantly burps, gargles, and moans in anger.
Throughout certain parts of the day i hear him vomiting. I don't know what he wants, i don't know if he needs help. But i know one thing, this dumpster opens for no one.
Everytime he vomits it attracts some sort of a, horde, of zombies.
It's hard to explain.
Regardless of who or what he is, it's imperative that i do not open that door under and circumstances.


Whenever i grow hungry or bored, i try to think about my life before this.
My son Brian. He was such a bright kid. As soon as he got into high school our relationship took a turn for the worst. He started wearing dark, sometimes damp clothes. He was always angry and rebellious. He liked to wear black and dark blue hoodies a lot.
Brian and I would always get into arguements, and he'd end up screaming his head off at me and running out of the house in a fit of rage.

The last time i saw him was about 10:15 pm the night before.
He had his wrists and legs wrapped with tape, for some odd reason.
He told me that one of his friends was in a car accident and was taken to Mercy Hospital, somewhere in Pennsylvania.

Something tells me he didn't make it to Mercy Hospital.... something tells me he could be in that horde... and something tells me that if i leave this dumpster, i'll join him.

Hunger really starts to get to me sometimes. My extreme lack of food has me thinking of suicide....

I sometimes look at my fingers.... maybe if i torch them off, or wrench them off.
As long as i have something to chew on...

I hope that by some miracle, somone willl find me.


== END OF JOURNAL ENTRY 2 ==

Really good, I like how you intertwined it with left 4 dead.

damn that was a good story

Wow. Really willing to chew on something? Great story. Hope chapter 2 starts soon.

ABigSoggy Wafle wrote:Wow. Really willing to chew on something? Great story. Hope chapter 2 starts soon.

You just read the second chapter, look for the first chapter so you can better understand wtf he's talking about.

EDIT: Why do i have a slight feeling that was a gay joke?

AH! Damn sorry. I thought this was the first one. Dur... I read the first one right now.