I have it all packed already, well the essentials at least. I filled my pink duffel bag with comfy clothes: jeans, sweats, t-shirt, sweatshirts and yes, some of my mini-skirts. They’ve always been a sign of self-expression, I can’t give up on everything that makes me me just because there’s no one around to see.
I also packed a complete first aid kit (thank you, Dad), three watter bottles, the little edible food I could find (damn our habit of having take out), my iPod (who knows? maybe one day I’ll be able to relax and enjoy music again) a flashlight, my laptop and my phone (even though the lines seem to be dead, internet is still working).
Oh and the biggest knife I could find. Am I going to use it? Probably not. I would prefer to not have any kind of close contact with these creatures if I can help it but… I have to addmit the weight of it in my hand makes me feel a little safer.
Now I’m just sitting on my couch, with the bag at my feet and trying to pluck up the courage to go out.
I know my car is parked just in front of the house- I’ve walked those forty steps uncountable times- but why does it feel like the moment I cross the treshold, hell is going to fall on me?
This is Rachel Berry, doing her last report from the house that watched her grow from an adorable, promising, growing star to a talented young woman who’s gift went to waste because an epidemic destroyed all potential fans. A tragedy worthy of becoming a Broadway hit.
Rachel Berry ★
End of second report.
- survivorrachel posted this