N A M E: Logan Hartley
A G E: 21
P L A C E O F O R I G I N: Venice, California
G R O U P: Saddle Ridge Elementary
O C C U P A T I O N: Hunter
F C: Ezra Miller
❝ I understand addiction now. I never did before, you know. ❞
↪ p e r s o n a l i t y ;
P O S I T I V E T R A I T S: intelligent ; observant
N E G A T I V E T R A I T S: foolhardy ; impatient
L I F E B E F O R E T H E O U T B R E A K:
Venice, California had always been known for its busy beaches, and of course, their marijuana. In the historic district where canals were built and houses were made, the Hartley family decided to call their home. In a house on the sides of it all, their front yard were canals and Logan could distinctly remember watching as paddle boarders and canoes made their way through. It was something that he enjoyed to do, the interest of their lives overpowering the distinct smell of bird shit. It was a simple life, but it was his and he loved it. However, over time, he grew tired of it. By the time he was finally able to go the preschool, the hobby was something of the past that was long gone from his list of things he enjoyed to do. It quickly moved to things like comic books and video games. Even as a child, Logan could recall the nights his father and him would spend wrapped up in the comfort of his sheets and reading the stories to him. Something about the action and the excitement of it all got his veins pumping and it was there that he developed a need for that.
Over the years, this developed into much more. From impromptu fights behind the school to breaking into neighbors houses, Logan was constantly in the search for more. It came as a shock to everyone when the young Hartley boy was arrested for trespassing. Of course, everyone in the neighborhood knew him and vouched for him. They vowed that he was a good kid and Logan promised that he wouldn’t do it again. For the first time, the young middle schooler had the intent to really stop what he was doing and be better. However, none of that really lasted long. It started with the day that he came across a group of freshman in the alleys near his house, the pungent smell being something that he could recognize. He knew it from the beach, how everyone there smoked without caring. Logan knew the boys, knew their names and where they lived. He was curious, and like always, he wanted to try things. Logan had always been a fan of trying something new and he knew that this would be no exception. As soon as he took his first hit of the green bud, he instantly liked it. There was something about it that made him feel cool and calm, the usually jumpy and squirrelly kid finally acting normal for once. He liked it and it kept him mellow, made the older kids like him as well. They told him that he was funny when he was high and asked if he wanted to do it again the next day. Of course, Logan agreed to this.
From there it was a slippery slope. Logan naturally had an addictive personality, his previous hobbies being anything that gave him adrenaline, ice cream, and comic books. Within a few weeks of doing it on a daily basis, Logan was hooked. It wasn’t anything too bad, just a few joints a day but eventually, Logan began to notice a change. Within a year of smoking, eating, and drinking the stuff, the effects had begun to lessen. Before he knew it, one or two joints no longer satisfied. Eventually, he got tired of it and he searched for more, something stronger. It was then that he got interested in the world of cocaine and oddly enough, Logan loved it. It was surprising because people had always told him that naturally anxious and jumpy people wouldn’t like it but to Logan, it felt just like an adrenaline rush. Crossing his coke with his alcohol became a new discovery for him and before he knew it, Logan was getting invites to parties all across Los Angeles. He hung out with different people every night, always growing bored of the same people. Never having any real friends, Logan began to feel the loneliness set in. He watched as his friends all settled down at some point, had girlfriends or boyfriends and didn’t stay out as late. Something within Logan resented them for this, envied how their lives were turning out well and his wasn’t.
By the age of sixteen, Logan’s parents had grown concerned. The late nights and the frantic personality were things to look out for and the Hartley family were no strangers to addiction. However, none of his actions or words were ever enough to call Logan out on this and so they waited for a sign, something that confirmed their beliefs. On one night when Logan was driving, he had taken a few pills, xanax to be specific. He was in a state of euphoria and driving during that stage was never something that ever bothered him. However, the mix of xanax and alcohol created a reaction within Logan and he passed out, causing a car crash. His car had flipped over and off the entrance onramp to the freeway, in the process, severely injuring multiple other people. He was rushed to the hospital and had his stomach pumped. The waking up was what really killed him, the fluorescent lights and the heart wrenching feeling that he just knew he did something wrong. It was tough for him, but he managed. Logan ended up being forced to spend a week in the psych ward, but only so that he could have a safe space to stay until his parents arranged for other things. As soon as he got out, he was driven to a quaint residential in the mountains of Ojai.
Four months into his treatment, Logan’s insurance stopped paying and he returned to his home. Of course, in any case, where the insurance just stops paying, Logan wasn’t ready. He was nowhere close to even accepting that he had a problem, mind still convinced that he was invincible. It wasn’t long before his four months of work went to waste and he was back in the streets up to no good. Trespassing into old buildings to do drugs became his usual thing and people always knew where to find him. He moved up in the world of drugs, his precious cocaine no longer being good enough for him. It only took a few weeks of being out of residential for him to discover meth, the addictive aspect of it all being so enticing to him. That was the real kicker for him, the one that ruined his life. Being on meth was the best and the worst thing to ever happen to him, the feeling of being on it giving him complete freedom but the after effects of it making him feel so caged. He soon developed a system where as long as he didn’t come down from the high, then he’d be good. Wasting money on the drug became a problem and within a few months, he was broke. He soon began to take his mother’s jewelry, pawning them and selling it for the money he needed. Everything was so messed up, yet that was how he loved it. After half a year of being on meth, Logan was immediately sent back to residential. The detox off of it was enough to make Logan never want to do drugs again. He worked his program, had a sponsor, and did whatever it took to get out and start a better life. Finally, when he was eighteen, he was released back to his family. Like all addicts, Logan had his slip-ups. He would drink and smoke, but never meth, no, not again.
L I F E D U R I N G T H E O U T B R E A K:
An addict’s promise isn’t enough to keep them off of the drug. It had been one of those days where nothing seemed right. He was sad and he was angry at the world and all he wanted was the drug that he promised himself he would never do again. Of course, Logan was broken and scared and weak. He broke and got his hands on some. It had been a few days since he had begun smoking it again, the binge being one of the worst days of his life. Logan would wake up in strange places and he ended up sleeping on the streets for a few days. That was when it hit. There were screams and cries that filled the air, the people of Venice running over each other to escape. Logan was just coming down, which only made the situation all the more frightening. He was scared and tired but he ran. He wasn’t sure what he was running from, but he knew that he had to follow the crowd and get away. He veered off into an alley, finally returning home after a week long meth binge. The feeling was terrifying and for a few days, Logan couldn’t help but cry. He was going crazy and he wasn’t sure if he was just imagining it all or if it was real.
The proof that it was all real soon emerged as Logan dared himself to leave the house. He hadn’t even gotten three feet away from his door when he was attacked. Logan’s youth aided him in his survival, the video games, comic books, and fighting he did being something that seemed to be of use. He took the knowledge he learned from his video games and put it to use. However, Logan couldn’t just settle that it was a zombie apocalypse. His jumpy minded needed to focus on something, make up a backstory to it all. That was how he came to the conclusion that it was a government set up. When safe zones set up by the army and government announced to his area, Logan went in the opposite direction. He developed a paranoid personality, partly because of his natural jumpiness, but also because of the brain damage from the drugs.
L I F E A F T E R T H E O U T B R E A K:
For the majority of the outbreak, Logan was constantly promising himself not to do drugs. However, at every opportunity he got, he dove straight into it and got wasted. It was a habit that he knew was bad for him, yet he didn’t particularly care to stop. This developed a self-hating personality for himself, one that made him angry and he resigned to punish himself. Bruises and scratched became something that covered his body, the stinging being something that helped prevent him from doing anything bad. It was a flawed system, but it was one that he subconsciously followed and for the majority of the time, it worked.
Logan’s parents had disappeared from his life. When he returned home, they weren’t there. He waited there for a few months, but they never came. Eventually, Logan decided to pack up his bags and leave. He never really knew where he was going, just that he had an overwhelming sense to get the fuck out of California. The sunny weather and blue skies were not meant for him, the very thought of being there for one more day making him sick to his stomach. He hated the beach and the sand that came with it so Logan decided to move to the center of the country. He walked and walked, never really joining groups but if need be, he agreed to work with others. However, other people typically didn’t like him and got uncomfortable out by his strange behaviors so for the majority of the time, he was forced to live alone. Life alone was difficult for him because all of his life, he had been one to surround himself with other people. The man was an extrovert and his heart longed for the comfort of others. One day when Logan was spying on a group of Raiders when he heard talk of Cheyenne. That natural curiosity kicked in and Logan just knew that he had to get there. Finally, he had a place to go and Logan took out a map and carefully found his way there. Though the journey was riddled with several relapses, he made it there alive and for that, he was grateful.
