My head is whirring. Everything was going into hyperdrive as I packed my bags. I can see it in the distance, looming over me, scaring me to death. I look to my mum and dad, their faces solemn. We had to leave our dog, we let him out before we left. I hope he’s alright. I hope I will be alright.   I packed my bags, 4 in 30 minutes, my anxiety was pressing on me like a dumbbell as I left. The car window was tainted with raindrops, each one had a sort of home-like feel even though raindrops were the things that started it.   You know when you have anxiety, but it never shows up, but comes back in a tsunami when you’re life is in danger. My heart is acting up, stopping and I want to cry but, I can’t. Mum switches the raidio on as we drive, the warnings blaring out. The radio is mostly a compilation of static but I hear a ‘Run!’ briefly.   My mum squeezes my leg, I know she is so worried. She always gets paranoid and this has got to her. We have been driving for a good half an hour, I imagine our dog, Charlie, couldn’t escape that fast, and I knew what was going to happen when he ran in the direction of hit. Nemo might survive, I hope, he’s a fish and fish swim in water.   I will always miss my home, my dog, my fish, always miss the sunsets on the beach watching the tide go in. I will always miss me.

I was yelling, screaming and whatnot. It was my greatest mistake to seek help from my professor. My hands painted red, was the second. While I was hitting the line to reduce my paranoia, there was someone walking by the window, as if he wanna see through the translucent glasses. The cat scratching the television top scared the damn out of me, but I can't complain. When even my own family discarded me, it was our professor who opened his arms. Deep inside I knew, he will not sell me out, but brain works differently. God has programmed it to suspect. The doorbell, someone was continuously pressing it. I was sweating profusely. Please, no professor. I begged him. I've committed a sin. He was so dear to me, that I confessed. But I could see him ignoring my cries. Half an hour ago, a customer to ignore me. I was trying to sell her a teapot. The teapot was so elegant. It was my dearest. I used to personally clean it after opening my shop. While I was telling her about the piece of art, she acted as if she doesn't care. How could she? I've never seen someone humiliating my teapots. And she didn't stop here. People around me said it was a mistake. But I could see in her eyes, she hated that teapot. She knowingly dropped it down. It infuriated me. I was feeling as if someone poured boiling water on my head. I couldn't digest it. Picked up the sharp broken piece from the teapot, which she broke so heartlessly. I don't know what was in my head, but I couldn't take that. I penetrated the sharp edge of the teapot into her neck. I did it. I did it deliberately. I continued to take my revenge of my teapot until she dropped breathing and she stopped breathing. My heartbeat rushed faster than ever. I felt the adrenaline swimming in my veins. The staff of my shop tried to stop me, but I couldn't let go of that sick bully girl who broke the masterpiece of the century. People these days do not appreciate art, but I do and I'll never let anyone humiliate art. My confession. While I was crying my heart out, professor wasn't listening. Professor has always been my idol, but how can he ignore my words? And my words for what? Someone who's on the opposite side of the door? This infuriated me. As he was approaching the door to see the guest, it was my time to punish him. No one should ignore me. I'm the chosen one. I pulled out the .45 pistol. Professor approached the door. He opened the first latch. I controlled my breath. He moved the door's security chain. I loaded the pistol and pulled the trigger. I know there were cops on the door. The maniacs in jail have been brainwashed. They know nothing. Someone told them the neighbor granny came to return his teapot, which I filled with professor's blood.

August 12, 2026

My name is not important. I work at the GSC office in Raleigh, NC. I’ll explain everything as soon as I can. My PDA is damaged and low on battery. But I don’t know how long I can continue to update on the situation. They’re outside my-

August 13, 2026

I managed to avoid capture, thank God. But they’re still after me. My house is compromised and I’m currently sitting just outside the city limits. Yesterday, my boss tasked me with digging up an old file on some low-life criminal up for parole. I went looking for it and accidentally found something serious. I can’t say all the details because I don’t have much time. But to put it in simple terms, the GSC has been testing bio-weapons in low income neighborhoods. The media told us it was because of a drug epidemic. But no, it was something called Powell-4. I couldn’t get much reading done but it’s some sort of chemical that they just toss into the water supply. I don’t understand why they would- oh shit!

August 19, 2026

The GSC is on my ass. My PDA got waterlogged and I had to buy another one. They came up in a van and hopped out right next to me. They weren’t there to ask questions. Immediate gunfire. I took one in the hip but I managed to escape. But the GSC is not on our side. All those people that they round up and send to the asylums were just saying shit they didn’t like. I always thought they were crazy. Just some mindless junkie making stuff up. They weren't, though. Hundreds of innocent people, locked up because they were right. I’m not gonna be like them. I will make sure this gets released to the public. They’re gonna kill me, for sure. But I’m a martyr. I’ve known that for a while.

August 21, 2026

It’s been a couple days since my last entry. The GSC has been silent since that one day. But they’re planning something. I know they are. They’ve started interrogating my family. They won’t crack, though. I know it. A buddy from college let me crash at his place up in Durham. I’ve done some more digging since my GSC server login is likely to get disabled any day now, and I made another discovery. Powell-4 isn’t being developed for a war. It’s for us. The GSC is going to release it on March 1st, 2027. It’s going to send us into a global pandemic that they have full control of. It’s their way of making a grab at the world. They already have a cure developed, too. As we all crumble and die, the GSC will be attacking the nerve centers of the world. Then, while we’re distracted, they strike and end up in full control of everything. Then, once they’ve had enough, they release the cure. The GSC gains control and we don’t notice a thing. That’s their goal. This can’t happen.

August 22, 2026

I’m currently about 4 miles away from Pennsylvania. I bought a shitty car with what little cash I had on me and left. I can’t get anyone else roped into this. My coworkers are good people. They didn’t know I was staging a coup. And I’ll die before I let anything happen to my family. My current plan is to try and make it to Canada. If I can do that, I might actually get a shot at living. I think they have a lower GSC presence than the U.S. But I don’t think I’ll even make it out of Pennsylvania. I know the GSC is after me. They have to. This is my final entry. All of it will be uploaded onto the Internet soon. Continue this fight if you can. But just remember that there’s no turning back. You can’t escape them. The GSC will catch you. They always have.

Dear diary,

It’s day one. Moma says she will be back in just six days, but then she muttered something under her breath that I couldn’t understand. I know she’s here though. She keeps scratching at the door and screaming in the hallway. It’s like a little game I guess!

Dear diary,

It’s day two. I’m starting to wonder if Moma is gonna come back. I’m not even sure If she’s here. It’s cold, dark, and I’m starving. The ceiling has crumbs falling off if it, and it keeps getting into my eye. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get food. That’s all I can think of. Food…

Dear dairy,

It’s day three and I’m starting to get worried. The scratching keeps getting deeper and the screams closer. The scratch marks are indenting into the door, I can see them from the inside. I hope that Moma comes back soon.

Day four, I don’t even have the fuel to say dear diary, because there’s nothing dear about this. I keep seeing eyes all around the room at night. They get closer and closer the longer I look at them. So all I can do it cry under the blanket biting at my fingers from pure hunger. I wake up in the night to screaming in my eye and scratching at my skin.

Dear diary,

It’s day five. Ive decided that I must be in a bad dream, this can’t be real. Mom always said that monsters aren’t real. I hope she comes back tomorrow

Dear diary,

It’s day six. Moma should be back soon! But I keep feeling my stomach rumble and move like there’s something inside me. I don’t know what to do. My skin thinning and my body rotting. I don’t think I’m gonna get to see Moma again.

She’s warm but made of knives

I thought this would be better She’d believe in me She’d be my protector

But her lamp that promised light
Is electrocuting me instead

Now the at mercy of her power Withholding praise in her ivory tower She calls a traumatized me lazy She makes me and her both crazy

She smiles Then jabs me Plugs into things I’m proud of Just to stab me

So now I’m on the run As a way to hide This used to be fun but It’s clear she’s not on my side Now all I want Is my power back
And to be done

Maybe she helped me see That I don’t have it in me

But though I get zapped and zapped again I still fly toward her light

She’s warm but made of knives

Day 1: I am taking a message to the Army from General Holtheiser. I climb onto of Courage, the horse given me for the journey, and start riding. It should take a week to get there. Let me introduce myself. I am Tomàs Rochester and I am a soldier in the Army. I am 20 years old, have black hair, blue eyes and everyone says I have a stubborn disposition. I was chosen for this journey for no reason that I can figure out, and I am supposed to keep a record of it. That is why I am writing in this book.

Day 2 The enemy is after me. I was warned that they probably would be. I slept very little last night.

Day 3 I saw the leader of my followers. It is a lady and she is an excellent tracker. They are getting closer.

Day 4 I managed to outdistance them a little. I am deep in the forest now. I am going to get some sleep.

Day 5 My horse, Courage, definitely lives up to his name today. The soldiers caught up to me and he charged into them. They had surrounded me, approximately 20 men including their leader. She is very young. I wonder how she became their leader? Courage ran with me for three hours before I could get him to slow down.

Day 6 I got to my destination early. Courage didn't want to go slow after his run through the forest yesterday. He ran nearly all day. I am to be knighted for my bravery. What was so brave?

March 1st, 4076

Dear diary, the robots got mommy today. I witnessed them tearing her organs out. It was scary. I hope that isn’t me someday. I don’t wanna kill people, I don’t like blood! It’s scary.

March 5th, 4076

Today they got daddy. I hope he meets mommy in heaven. Right now I’m hiding under the bed. I can see the robot’s feet. Or rather- wheels. They are covered with blood! I can hear them.. They’re still looking for me. I’m the last one left of my family.

March 8th, 4076

Dear diary, I think this is the last time I’ll ever write. The robots are getting closer to me, They’re bound to find me sometime today. And- they found me.

March 9th, 4076

I don’t know why they let me write in you, but- I’m being hung above a lava pit. I can feel it- It’s s-s-so hot.. I hate it. But.. At least I didn’t have a death like mommy’s. But I feel this one is much worse. Soon I’ll fall into the burning hot lava! I don’t want a death like this..

I think it’s time.. The robot’s are about to cut the rope. Plea-

                                                                                     HELP ME

Dear Diary - You are the only one I can share my true self with. I am not sure how I would be able to live in this world without you. You let me release the demond within me, so that I can continue to live my peaceful life.

Today I went to our local clinic as I had not been feeling well. They had the odasity to bring in a student to see me. Not only did she have to do her full anylsis on me, but she had to do this will on a Zoom call with her professor, watching me as well, on top of the doctor who also had to perform their own exam too. The whole thing too twice as long as it should have. I do not like to have all these eyes on me. It makes me feel like maybe something from my demond core will slip out. Then again… maybe it was test on my strength and security, and I passed. Another day of no one knowing the XXX seceret that I hold inside.

Not dirty.- want it to be a chilling thriller word

I’m a criminal, Mommy and me. We spend all day in the car. I used to play with my Matchbox cars, vroom vroom white Chevy Corvette with red racing stripes vroom vroom Piston Popper Rolamatic electric blue vroom. Mommy said my cars give her a migraine. I don’t know what a migraine is. Mommy says it’s a headache with tears. I was real quiet for a long long time. So much cornfields. At the gas station Mommy bought me a book hard cover black with white spots and a box of sharp yellow pencils. Mommy said I can make a travel diary. Today is something something.

This is the travel diary of Dusan the bad man. Mommy told me to write what I see and what I feel about what I see. Corn fields. I see gray highway in front of us. More corn fields. We are on the run. We are having fun. We eat gas station hot dog in the sun. I made Mommy laugh. I don’t know what else to write. Today is Tuesday I think.

This is the travel diary of the adventures of me. This is a drawing of me with a cape. We left Kansas, I think. We have to sleep in the car. Mommy said it’s like camping sleeping with the stars. That made me think of camping with Daddy in a tent. We had marshmallows and a fire and Dad sang silly songs. I miss my old room, my home. I don’t tell Mommy that. I asked where are we going. She said go to sleep, little man. She has a migraine I can tell. We slept under coats so no one would see us. Today is October.

Hey, It’s me again. I can’t even remember how long it’s been. I’ve been running for so long now it feels like this has always been my life. All I know is I can’t be found. He can’t find me. I can’t go through that all again. I wouldn’t survive it. I’m in Rome right now. It’s beautiful here. It’s a shame it had to take running for my own life for me to see the world. Anyway. I’ll write again. Not sure when. -Me

Hey, That was a close call. I saw him in the crowd, he’s getting to close for comfort. Too familiar with my pattern. Of course I fled again. I won’t tell you where though. Maybe he has access to this digital diary and that’s how he knew I was in Rome. I feel like I’m suffocating from the weight of all of my own thoughts. I’ll write again. -Me

Hey, I changed my hair color today. I won’t tell you which shade I chose… you never know. And I cut it. It’s been a few months since I saw him but I’m thinking about leaving this place and finding a new one. I can’t ever let myself get too comfortable. I don’t trust it. I don’t trust anything. I’ll write again. -Me

Hey, I met someone. He’s pretty great. But I don’t know if I can trust it. The last time I loved someone he locked me up and tortured me. I have to keep reminding myself that not all men are the same. That some can be decent. I think I’m going to choose to trust him and let him in. He already knows about what happened to me and seems like he wants to keep me safe. I’ll only write again if it goes badly. Hopefully you won’t hear from me again. -Me