The woods

Dawn Jhonson.

February 15th

Through the days go by, I am asking my self if someone will ever come back.
There is no food, almost there is not water, I'm alone.
The corpses of everyone lay dawn on the backyard.
It's a madness, every nigth I fall sleep with an axe in my hands.
What do I do if they wake up? Will I be able to listen the way they putrefieds bodies crawling until the door?