A Day to DayZ Log

November 23rd, 2022

Week 1: 

I woke up on the beach in the middle of the night. Visibility is lacking and even hallucinations that the world doesn’t fully exist for a few moments. Unclear why life has brought me here and also why I only have a plum, bandage, and a glow stick in my pockets. These capri pants, old shoes, and a striped shirt bring me limited comfort in an uncomfortable situation.  I look around and my partner is not there.  Instead I am greeted by craving lunatics. I find myself running in and out of buildings looking for something to quench my thirst, fill my stomach, and protect my body. Someone left a crowbar on the ground and it becomes another limb. I don’t understand where I am as the language on the signs are unfamiliar. I don’t know when I am as the world looks to be destroyed and those surrounding me are monsters. I’m scared, cold, and hungry. Where are you? 

Week 2: 

I’ve made it out of the mainland. Figured the worst of it was left behind. Oh how wrong I was. I came across a couple of people in the woods. They set up base there, but we all were sick.  Coughing and sneezing from a distance. They seemed as scared as I was. Their hopes of surviving were low, and mine were even lower. I hid from them instead of embracing their presence. The first people I have encountered since I awoke that weren’t trying to kill me right away. Whoever you were, just know I tried to come back, but got lost along the way.  

Week 3:

I followed a creek that kept me hydrated for the majority of my journey. Found a dirt trail with flags painted on trees and stones that lead me to a small military base north of where I came from. There was a hospital filled with patients that no longer lived and didn’t want others to either. I somehow found a shotgun that I fed them and whatever shred of soul they had left seeped through the holes the slugs created. I decided to head southeast in hopes that my partner would as well. We always spoke about following our instincts if we ever lost each other.

Week 4: 

I came across a fire station or at least what was left of it.  In my previous life I always wanted to help people. Be a part of the solution, not the problem. Nowadays, I feel like it would be easier to let go of that dream, but what we do in life shouldn’t always be easy, but what is right. I’m now self acclaimed, First Responder Francine. It is my mission to help those who are unable to help themselves. The weight I bear is heavy, but I feel will be worth it in the long run.

Week 5:

I made it to the peninsula and there he was. A beard grown on a dead man walking. His tired smile woke me up. Hope was still there. He had changed of course. An obsession with guns now took over him, but his love for me helped him utilize what he found to protect not only himself but me on this journey. 

Week 6:

We’ve traveled far north. Somehow surviving along the way. The monsters have grown in strength here. I even heard a truck drive by, but was cornered and unable to call out to them. Explosions in the near distance echoed throughout our journey. Life here was not the same as it was on shore. People seemed to have adapted in ways that were more brutal than we imagined. Grown into those who wanted to destroy. We made a decision to work our way back to where the weak people woke in fear. Finding food through what once was the sound of the morning to now appease the sounds of our stomachs. Thank you poultry for continuing to survive long enough to give life to us. My stamina is low with the weight of my gear. We came across a military outpost where we found medical supplies, ammunition, water bottles, and food. I was able to test our blood and to our surprise, my partner’s was a universal donor. Huzzah. Another win for our purpose. I was ready to go back to where we came from again.

Week 7: 

I took my job as First Responder very seriously. I even found some steak on a monster’s body that I ate for educational purposes. I was committed. To be honest, in our past lives I would have been committed to a hospital with what happened after. The brain disease set in and my emotions fluctuated. People needed to understand what could happen to them with certain choices. An incurable disease, but one that brought emotion to a bleak world. Instead of being eaten up by jadedness I expressed myself in laughter and tears. This wasn’t a great combination as it did bring unwanted attention to me. However, we continue to survive. My partner has been tasked to hold onto the handcuffs we found. I started to realize that once we do locate those in need they may have an urge to survive in drastic ways. So for our security, we decided to create our own contingencies. Trust has been lost so I don’t know how this will go over with strangers, but it’s the only way to ensure we can continue to help others.

Week 8: 

On our way back a pack of wolves attacked us. Tearing into our flesh my tears were no longer water but bloody. Thankfully I had the supplies to take care of the both of us, and also thankfully my partner had the guns to provide us protection and food. I was able to provide blood transfusions to both of us so the world wouldn’t be grey and our hearts wouldn’t stop. Many fires he created, many steaks were cooked (and burnt), and we continued on our way. As our trek continued we found that our supplies were diminishing as well. The more danger found us, the more wear and tear it took on us (and our clothes). We still had faith we’d be able to help, even if this world had taken most who needed it.  I’ve run out of bandages sadly, but I still have the flag around my arm to use in case of an emergency. Let’s hope it’s enough to heal my next wounds.

Week 9:

We see the ocean. The moonlight hits it and we notice an island just a short swim away. Our curiosity peaked so we decide to swim across the cold water. A jolt of life was brought back to us even for a minute or so. A shack was right there to keep us safe for a bit along with that dry bag we could have used on the opposite shore. My partner put down the gas stove that has saved us from hypothermia many times and sadly my pants were destroyed. I figure, we’ll find some in the buildings up ahead. We even hear a chicken. I’ll write more in a little bit as there is some screaming occurring outside and we need to find a safer place to reside. Although these past few weeks have been extremely difficult, random, and unforgiving, I’m excited to find some pants, more bandages, and people to help. Knowing that I may save a life has been the only reason I have pushed as much as I have.

This is the last time I’m going to be able to write. We should have stayed in that shack. Now I have to hear the one I love die.  If you find this there’s no more hope. Life is lost. Just do what you can to survive or take the shotgun that I dropped and use it on yourself.