To My Dearest

It's hard to say when I knew it was my time. Soon I will be just like the rest of them. They drift among us, the soulless, broken toys cast away unwanted. Their eyes blank, they really are the living dead. Apart from the trying to eat us, that is of course a lie, made up by long forgotten story teller. The feeding on the dead. The decaying flesh calls to me, I wish to hid in the shadows ready to rip out chunks of meat.

How did I know I was one of them? Well at first I didn't, each day was like the last my dead end job taking up most of my life, and you taking up the rest. There was simply no time to have contracted the virus, unless it was from that one, that one person, with the green eye. It must have happened when I was helping that little girl out with her bloody finger, she must have had the virus, and it must have seeped into a cut. That was six days ago, I can feel it now. Starting to loose functions, my body stalls every now and then. I fear my mind is slipping.

Even now this paper is becoming blurry, and my words less, not as well, not good. Forgive my writing i have 1 thing to say i do looesfewa yeln.