Today

When I took this diary with me, I had no idea this is what I'd be using it for. I had planned to use it to chronicle my first year of college, to cement the memories that I would look back so fondly on later in life, but those thoughts seem so far away now. It's not that I'm different; it's that everything around me is different.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Aemaeth Morrow. I know, it's a weird name: my mom and dad were both huge fans of the Ghost in the Shell movies, and they decided to name me this crazy word instead of something like Stephanie or Jessica. I think it means Truth, or has some other occult meaning. Anyway, at least I have some pretty funny memories of substitute teachers trying to pronounce it. It's important not to forget things like that; there's so little joy and humor in the world around me that if you lose what you have inside of you, this world will eat you up. Literally.

The world as we know it has ended. I don't know that much, but the reign of humans is over. There are invaders that have come into our world, and their weapons are far deadlier than ours. Because the weapons they use are us. The group I'm with calls them Anthropophages, but that's just a fancy name for what they really are: Zombies.

I'm going to be perfectly honest; there are only two reasons I'm alive right now. The first is that people think I'm pretty. I have a slender build, wide hips, and people have always liked my eyes and my long hair. The second reason is that I took 8 am classes. School has always been important to me, and I figured High School and College couldn't be that different. I wish this wasn't the case; I'd love to say I'm alive because I deserve it, or because of some skill I possess, but I know that's not true.

I'm going to write down, as clearly as I remember, what happened today. If you are reading this diary because you found it in the backpack of an Anthropophage or you found it discarded int he woods somewhere, it's because I'm dead. I owe the world this much, at least, for sparing me. It deserves to have what happened recorded.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm, that awful screeching one, and jumped out of bed. I'd had trouble going to sleep the night before, but a little tiredness wasn't going to keep me from making the most out of my first day at college. I'm a student at the University of North Texas, although I'm originally from the Dallas area. Anyway, I showered, got dressed, ate breakfast, and reread the syllabus for the class just in case. I had already purchased my textbooks, and so I used the extra time to do a little reading. I was working my way through The Scarlet Letter, with the goal to read 12 classic novels in the year.

I walked to class, earphones in and just enjoying the weather. It was sunny, not too hot, and there just enough breeze to make my hair dance and to rustle my skirt. I followed a map of the campus I had printed out to my class, which was on the second floor of the English building. It was Introduction to Psychology, which begs the question of why it was in the English Building, but I'm sure there was an academic reason or something.

Anyway, I came in, chose a seat in about the middle of the class, and looked around. The teacher wasn't here yet, and the students who were here seemed universally exhausted. A few people stood out to me; two lanky guys chatting casually, a full-figured girl sitting in the back, a youngish looking guy on a laptop, and an older man with a dog. He was a veteran, probably; the rugged jeans, the tired look in his eyes, and the nervous habit he had of tapping his fingers all pointed to severe stress earlier in his life.

I put my headphones away and pulled out the Scarlet Letter, deciding to make use of the fifteen or so minutes before class started. It was maybe a minute or so later I heard footsteps, and looked up to see the two lanky guys. They had noticed me, I suppose, and immediately set off on the prowl. They had a practiced confidence about them; they had talked about this, planned and strategized for it, and both of them felt ready to take me on and hopefully take me out. I wasn't sure who was the wingman, though; maybe they were both going for me? I don't want to sound cold, but I saw through them immediately. They wanted my body, not me, and I felt nothing but contempt for them. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I also have a catty streak, and I decided to play with them a little before class.

We chatted a little, I don't remember specifically what about, and I learned a little about each of them. Their names were Howard Martin and Demetrius Laster. Howard wore glasses, had short black hair that framed his angular face, and was dressed in a polo shirt with khakis. He had a very serious countenance, although this was offset by his warm smile and his ability to manipulate the English language in his favor. He was a charmer, and conversing with him was like a game; he'd talk, setting up ideas or questions like chess pieces, and I'd respond in kind.

Demetrius, meanwhile, wore an unzipped jacket over a graphic tee (some band logo, I think), with jeans. His mouth was large for his head size, and his eyes were bright with an energy. It was the same brightness that you find in fire or lightning; the brilliance of action. He had long, blondish hair, long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail, and possessed a sort of animal quality. If Howard was like a machine, calm and analytical, Demetrius was his opposite. He was brash, emotional, and more than once interrupted Howard to make a point or something. However, what made him interesting was that he was very difficult to predict. Throughout the whole of our ten minute conversation, I never had any idea what he might say, if anything. Adding to one of Howard's stories, chiming in with some witticism, or pointing out something random that somehow contributed to the conversation. I was really glad I wasted the time talking to them; they were interesting, and who knows? Maybe we'd go get coffee sometime and I'd get to enjoy their company again. But, I had to remind myself, these guys were interested in me for my body, not for me.

The first time I suspected something was wrong was when Mrs. Appleton didn't show up. From what I had read in the syllabus, Mrs. Appleton was very serious about Psychology, and I had read on RateMyProfessor.com that she was always on came and was very hard on late students, even dropping them from the class after a few absences. Being late on the first day didn't seem like her. But I guess more importantly, I got this sixth sense feeling, like I knew something was wrong. By now, the class was full, fifty or so students in all, and all of them seemed unaware. I gathered all of my things together, and waited as the minutes rolled by. The class started conversing quietly, and many pulled their phones out.

Suddenly, an alarm started ringing all across campus. I could hear it from a number of different places, and the klaxons all overlapped and bolstered each other. The students jumped up and started rushing for the exit, some with a look of delight and others with a look of panic. I stood up, but couldn't make my body move. I was so sure that something terrible was happening, so sure that something was wrong, and I spent perhaps a full minute just trying to make my body move.

There was a crowd around the door, and there were still twenty or so people milling about when I first noticed it. It was like someone was crumpling a piece of paper, but that paper was, like, reality. It's hard to put into words, but it was terrifying to look at. It didn't make a sound, as far as I can remember anyway, but all of our attention was drawn to the disturbance. A moment later, the space that was the whiteboard suddenly ruptured, and maybe half a dozen humanoid creatures spilled through. I didn't get a good look at them, but they were grey-skinned and moved with a clumsy, feral gait.

I probably would've kept staring at them in a fascinated stupor, but I felt a hand on my wrist pulling me. My head snapped around, and I found Demetrius dragging me towards the back of the class. I was in shock, I think; I wasn't really processing anything, I was just lost in the screams of the students, the stamping of feet, the harsh barking of the dog, and the low growls of the Anthropophages. While Howard and Demetrius yelled at each other, I just kept staring, watching the scene unfold before me. I was powerless to do anything about it, and I was sure watching it would be bad for me later on, but I couldn't stop watching.

Thus far, everyone was okay, and this was only because of the efforts of the veteran. I feel bad for not knowing his name, but I never had a chance to speak with him. He had interposed himself between the crowd and the Anthropophages, and he was trying to direct the crowd though the door while the Anthropophages tried to get past him.

Suddenly, I heard a scream. My head snapped, and I saw the heavy girl rushing towards us, pursued by one of the Anthropophages. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and Howard snarled for me to go. I wasn't sure what he meant until I looked over my shoulder, and saw that Demetrius and him had forced open one of the windows. I didn't see Demetrius, and I figured out later he had already jumped out. I turned my head back, and realized that if I broke away and tried to help her, Howard would leave me. Could I save her? What could I do?

Holding back tears, I plunged through the window, the girls screams following me as I plunged into the open air. The alarms were louder outside, and I could hear choruses of other screams all across campus. I hung in the air for a moment, and then I hit something solid. I can't believe Demetrius was able to catch me; I'm sure my limbs were all akimbo, and I wasn't thinking about making it easy for him at all, but he managed. He set me down, and not a moment later he caught Howard. I heard him grunt this time, a scream that he refused to let out of his throat, and I started to grasp how hard he was working.

Everything after that is a blur. I was hyperfocused on the classroom, but once we got outside my attention started to waver. If Demetrius and Howard had left me, I don't think I would've made it. In fact, if they hadn't grabbed me from the classroom, I'm almost positive I would've died. The girls screams changed while I was falling from a high pitched expression of fear to the guttural verbalization of pain. I'm sure she's dead, and it's my fault. I didn't save her, and she's dead.

I wish I knew what happened to that veteran. Did he make it? Or did he die, saving the lives of twenty people who probably didn't know his name? He's a hero, and no one knows what he gave up for others. I'm going to make sure his sacrifice is remembered, at least in my own small way.

There's not really much else to tell, for now. We made it to Howard's car, and right now we're hiding out on a side road. Howard warned us that the road will be clogged, and that the looting is probably in full swing right now. I have my backpack, and Howard has his bag plus what was already in his car. Between us, we have my lunchbox, a twelve pack of soda plus a package of granola bars. Demetrius has a knife, and Howard had a machete in his car. I wanted to question him about it, but I can't help but be glad.

I had one of the granola bars, and I'm finally feeling better. Enough to write in my diary, anyway. Demetrius is resting, letting his arms recover. Howard is on his phone, doing all of the research he can before the Internet goes down.

To be perfectly honest, I don't know what's going to happen. I know why Howard and Demetrius saved me, and I don't know how long its going to be before they start turning on me. I'm trying to stay positive, but I mean, it is the apocalypse. Right?

I'll write again about what happens tomorrow. I don't know what our plan is, but I know that eventually we're going to see what we can scavenge, and then set out towards a rural area. I want to try to save more people, but the time I brought it up they both seemed against it. That worries me, more than anything else, I think.