Dear Diary

I'm scared. Well, obviously I would be, it's a zombie apocalypse. Thinking about it, scared might be a bit underestimated.

I woke up this morning to weird noises outside the flat, but I didn't really have the spirit to get up early, you know me. Sleep is my guilty pleasure.

If I had looked out the window though, I would have seen this: dead people. Some on the floor, unmoving , others walking (or rather, creeping) down the street, covered in blood and dirt. They walked into things or pushed them over, occasionally attacked the few living people who were still out. Because I didn't get up, I enjoyed another hour of piece.

My family is alive, at least for now. I'm alive, at least for now. I called them when I finally saw the chaos outside, the landline doesn't work anymore, but my mobile does.

Since this is the apocalypse, probably, I'm at least going to keep my humour.

I mean, isn't that drop dead funny?