THINKING ABOUT IT MAKES ME INSANE AUGUST LIKE. i think there’s a short window of time in between me trying to wait everything out to see if it’s as bad as everyone’s saying and me realizing the end is Here and giving up, and in this case i think mahito straight up breaks into my house before i fully give up.
it’s terrifying. before i can think about what i’m saying i offer him some of the food and water i still have, and while he’s scarfing whatever down he casually offers to take me with him. and i really don’t want to leave my house, but i know if i stay here i’ll eventually die anyways. and i try to comfort myself with the fact that if i’m not traveling alone i’ll be safer, even if the guy i’m traveling with is grade a crazy. maybe grade a crazy is what i need to survive, y’know?
it’s a weird dynamic. he’s reckless and brutal and doesn’t seem to take the end of the world too seriously, whereas i’m constantly worried about survival and making it to the next day. but there’s something comforting about having someone else watch you sleep, even if it’s a little disconcerting too.
he comes back covered in blood a lot. gives me a thumbs up that whatever new place i’ve scoped out for shelter is free of people, zombies or otherwise. i don’t ask too many questions, although there’s always a lingering sense of guilt about who exactly he might have killed when i wasn’t there. it’s not enough to make me brave enough to go with him, though. my one comfort is that he doesn’t like staying still, so i lie to myself and think that maybe the shelter could help someone else after we move on.
i don’t know exactly when he gets bitten. hell, he might’ve been infected the whole time we traveled together, and the disease simply progressed slower than i thought. no matter when he got infected, though, it ends the same: me bracing myself for my first kill since the world ended
