Nobody understands. I don’t want to do this. I have to. If I don’t, then I’ll die. Now, some people may try to argue that. “It’s ok for these people to die so you don’t have to? Wouldn’t it be better if you died?” Right, maybe, but I don’t *want* to die. And every day I don’t kill I get worse and worse. The longest I’ve been able to make it is 13 days, and by that point I couldn’t eat or sleep and I felt like I was on death’s door. That was between Melanie Park and Spencer Dalton. See, I want to remember these people, I want to know them and honor their sacrifice. They died so I could live.

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough. And the more I kill, the less time that passes before I feel ill again. I don’t know how and I don’t know why. Maybe… I was cursed! Maybe it’s something to do with a weak heart and the adrenaline kicks it back into gear. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to keep killing as much as I can to live as long as I can. And if I run into you, and decide in that moment that you’re my next sacrifice to whatever god or devil may be doing this to me, I sincerely hope you’ll understand.