seiberwing

Fuck.

Just...fuck it.

Yesterday I'm picking my brother up from school, today this shit goes down and I'm the one who has to haul his damn ass around. Fuck. You know, he won't leave without his iPod and half a dozen books and all his little snacks. A goddamn flesh-eating monster invasion and he wants his iPod.

I'm mostly posting this up here so people know where I've gone, maybe to calm my own nerves, too. Left a note for my parents, too, they won't think to check the internet. We're going over to our neighbor's place, everyone's piling up in one house and huddling 'round the TV to see what happens next. For once I'm glad I live in a neighborhood with good god-fearing Christians with guns and large dogs and the good sense to help each other out. I take back everything I say about the South. Except maybe ORNL, Malcolm's thinking they did something to make this happen. Or it could be the terrorists. I'm pretty terrified, anyway.

I've got the van loaded up with supplies and every heavy blunt object I could pry out and drove that up here, so that's my bit, and I'm taking David out to the arboretum down the way if things really hit the fan--there's barely anyone there, they won't want to come that far into the woods when there's other people around. Suppose all the empty highways around here are good for fucking something.

And yeah, I'm scared. I have no idea where my parents are, I have no idea where anyone is and David's putting up an immense fuss and doesn't want to leave and I'll probably have to bribe him with cookies or something...fuck. They better not be dead, I'm not carrying him around for the rest of my life, doing it for the day is bad enough.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Someone talk to me. Please.