Mary Louise is Alive

Dear Journal,

It's been a while since I've written in here. Too long, to be quite honest. I've been trapped inside of a hellhole that that deranged man, Ben, kept me in for months.

Four, I've just counted. 

Ben is dead, though. I found him on the floor, being eaten alive by some cannibalistic, psycho thing. His grey beard was torn off of his wrinkly face, and his cold brown eyes were all closed up. His brown hair lay messily atop his head, his bald spot just-a-shining away. 

The creature looked oddly normal, but when it stood, its eyes were the eeriest silver-blue I had ever seen. It shuffled towards me, and I didn't know what to do, so I ran. I ran into the kitchen, and it followed me, strangled noises leaving its mouth. I grabbed one of those fancy Paula Deen kitchen knives Ben kept for me to cook him dinner with, and stabbed that thing right in its temple. It fell right over and hit the floor with a big thump. 

I checked the date and clock, too. I was in here during my birthday, locked away in the cellar I resided in. Woohoo, happy late twenty-third birthday to me. I still have faint bruises along my arms from when Ben hit me the other day.

I wonder where my Daddy and Mama are - if they're okay. 

I changed into some black pants and a grey shirt I found earlier. I managed to scrounge up a pair of Ben's old boots, too. 

I tried calling the police, but the phone line was disconnected. 

Help, I wanted to scream into it. Mary Louise is alive, and she needs to get out of here.

I turned on the television, which thankfully worked. A short, plump woman with a brown bob and heaps of red lipstick popped onto the screen, her face up close. She was talking about diseases and infestations, and gunshots could be heard in the background. I don't know what was happening, but another one of those flesh-eaters waltzed right onto the screen and began tearing the poor woman's face right off. The camera man ran, and the television disconnected, too.

I cleaned up a bit. I brushed my hair and found that my blue eyes were now a deep grey. My face was sunken in, and my hair was a mess. I combed it out and tied the red rat's nest right into one of my signature dutch braids.

I was so stupid, today. I acted as if I hadn't just seen two people being eaten alive, and like my kidnapper's dead body wasn't lying on the floor of his living room. I made myself a sandwich.

I can hear some more of those weird noises, and I think those flesh-eaters multiplied or something. I don't know, but I just locked myself in the bathroom with one of Ben's rifles. 

Clearly, something isn't right in the world. I bet other people are thinking the same thing as me. All I know is that I want to get home and be with my family. I want to jump right into my boyfriend Cole's arms and hug the life out of that man. I want to cradle my baby cousin and make food for my grandma.

They're banging on the door now. I'll probably try to head home tomorrow. For now . . . For now I'm going to try to make it out of this place without dying.

Good luck?

Thanks.

Sincerely,

Mary Louise Calbright