To the Last

I love this.

That is all.

It's not as though I didn't try. Didn't run, hide, and wait. I begged, I pleaded, I sobbed in its face. And still, it advanced. It came without warning, once, in the night. I don't remember now what I heard that night, only that in the morning, my father was gone. It was almost as if he was never there. But how could he have not been? I mean, we remember him. Or, well, I remember him. Because I'm the only one left. And I'm hiding in a closet now, trying to avoid all the little noises that I've caught myself making over the weeks.

My brother was the second one to go, in the kind of massive silence that makes you remember that the birds should at least be chirping. I had just seen him not ten minutes before the silence came, and when the sounds began again, I looked everywhere for him, but of course he was gone. Just that...thing. The thing that I can't describe, because it simply cannot make sense. How can it breathe? How can it find us? I would give almost anything to go back to the way things were before. It was easier then, when we were able to actually laugh about things. When I had people to laugh with.

Last week, I locked the door to the basement. I thought that might help, though thinking on it now I'm not sure why that would help in any way. And, in the course of time, I was proven quite correct. The lock was shattered and the door ripped off the hinges, and my mother's screaming was heard throughout the house. I searched and I searched, but I haven't seen her since. I gave up hope quickly that time. And since then, I have been alone. Alone, and terrified beyond all conscious recognition. I mean, what if it comes after me? What can I do? What can anyone do? I barricaded the basement door this time, and for the past week I've been hiding in this closet, only leaving to get more food from the pantry. I haven't been sleeping well, and I've been waiting, waiting forever.

Until tonight. About an hour ago, I saw it. I saw it walking towards the basement. It must have something in there that it wants, and maybe when I locked the door, and then barricaded it, it couldn't get it, and that's why it hasn't come around? I really don't know. But I suppose that this time I intend to find out. I'm not well. I've been eating canned food, and I think I'm starting to get sick. I can't do this forever, and I am going to suppose that finding out what it wants is going to either keep me alive, or at least be a cleaner death than I've deserved thus far.

So I'm going in. I am going to unbarricade the door and find out what, if anything, is hidden in the basement. I will fight the beast if I have to, but I'm going to try to run for it if I can't. Because of that, I'm going to leave this here. I don't expect to get away. I really don't. If someone, anyone, finds this journal, don't come for me. Don't even look for me. I don't want to be found if I'm alive, and you don't want to find what you will if I'm not. I know what I'm doing. I go into this with a free mind. Wish me luck.