If you are reading this more than a day after it was posted, chances are that I am dead. My entire family is dead as I’m writing this, but someone needs to know.
This might sound strange to most of you, but it has been heavily snowing for a fortnight at this point and I can’t be sure if it has stopped, because my entire house is buried.
Me and my family got the supposedly false EAS alert that it would be snowing for an undetermined about of time around Christmas, and we determined that we should stock up on food and water before the snow started, just in case it was real, because it sounded like a hacker was messing with people. If it wasn’t for that alert, I wouldn’t be able to write this.
We managed to stock up with no issues and everyone in my family took the next month off of work. My job wouldn’t let me do that so I simply quit. We were always the superstitious family in the neighborhood, and nobody took it seriously except for us.
Then it started to snow.
After the second full day of snow, we were laughing at the TV as people were raiding the local Cub and Hy-vee, but it was more of a worried laugh, because there were also reports of home break-ins and people knew that we were the people who always took this stuff seriously. It was only a matter of time before we were raided.
The next day we heard what we thought was friendly knocking on the door, and my little brother was weirdly dumb and opened the door. He never did that. He always went and got someone else to open it.
A Gunshot. Everyone heard it. And as we turned the corner into the living room, we saw my little brother dead on the floor, completely decapitated by the shotgun round. He was 5. A bundled figure was standing next to him, holding a clipboard and a shotgun. He checked something off and held the shotgun up at my paralyzed sister and pulled the trigger. She fell to the ground next to me.
I pulled myself out of my shock and raced upstairs to get my dad’s desert eagle. He always had it loaded In case of something like this. I grabbed the gun and went back downstairs and saw my parents dead as well. I was so caught up with my thoughts at the time that I didn’t hear the gunshots. The man was in the kitchen getting food and water from our fridge. He didn’t hear me come downstairs.
I did something that I thought only happened in movies. I announced my presence. I wanted that fucker to see who was going to kill him. He turned around, but didn’t have his gun. He had left it on the couch because I was “hiding” I presume. He took off his scarf and revealed who he was, probably because he knew I knew him and hoped that I wouldn’t bring myself to kill him.
It was my 4th grade teacher, Mr. Terry. He was the one who actually taught me to be myself.
He was so nice. I wish I didn’t have to kill him. Recently I have been losing sleep because he meant so much to me.
I shot him directly between the eyes. It’s engrained in my memory, the terror in his eyes, him begging my not to kill him… His limp body falling to the floor…
I need a moment.
Okay, glad to see my phone is still alive. I have been trying my hardest not to cry while writing this, but the memories of Mr Terry came flooding back and it was too much. He was important to me.
That was only the third day. Since then I have buried all of my family outside in the snow. And Mr Terry was recovered by an anonymous person after I was asleep. They took nothing else, Just his body.
I’ve been running out of food for a while now, and I just ate the last of my canned goods today. I do have another option, but I’m not sure if I could bring myself to do it. From what I understand, people are stranded in the place where the internet is regulated, so that’s how I can write this. Im not sure how much longer it will last, though…
I will update if I bring myself to eat the bodies of my family I put outside. Probably not though. Cannibalism always makes me squeamish.
goodbye.