Mama if it’s You

I don't know what's going on, what's happening. I normally don't do this kind of thing, but I don't have anyone to talk to anymore and I'm scared. I'm so scared.

I just spoke to my mom yesterday, we were supposed to go out for her birthday on Saturday. I tried calling but she's not answering her phone... I'm hoping the phone towers are just down- I don't -I can't- the alternative is just to much to think about.

Today started off normal. I woke up, skipped breakfast because I was late for work, did my job at the coffee shop, went home -it was all so normal. It wasn't until 4:15 exactly that it seemed the world just stopped and started all over again.

I heard someone screaming outside and I went to look, ready to call 911, just in case, but when I looked-

I'm only writing in this stupid notebook because I don't know what else to do. My apartments been over taken, by those things and looters both. I know I can't stay here, but, I don't want to go outside. I don't want to die, not like that. Not, not like that.

Oh God, I want my mom...

I just. I don't know if I'm gonna make it out of this, but I don't want to be forgotten, another nameless face amongst hundreds of thousands of victims, or even one of those, things. So I'm gonna write it here and hope someone will survive long enough to find it.

My name is Alex J. Dennison, and I'm 20 years old. I'm studying psychology in college and had planned to go abroad in the fall. I live in the tiny studio apartment that you probably found this book in, and I work- worked, oh God- at some hole in the wall coffee shop for minimum wage.

My mom will come looking for me if, if she's still- Mama if it's you reading this, just know I love you, I love you so much-

I just wish I-