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Rifleman

Shattered Memories

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Rifleman    14

To those that find this:

You will hear my part of the story

Be it twenty years in the future

Or just the next day from when I buried this recording

Surviving this hellhole of a world - one day at a time

You don't know me,

most of you hearing this likely never will - hell,

here I am sitting here thinking my words will make any difference in the future.

Is the world any better?

Has this shit all been cleaned up? Have the scars of the Outbreak healed over?

Fucking hell, what do you care?

You just sitting around waiting for story time?

Gah, hell with it then - I'll give you sorry lot listening to this a good chunk of stories.

You children all tucked up nice and warm in your beds?

Hah, don't take this shit from me seriously - it's been a long ass day and all what happens is the fucking same.

Bullets,

bombs,

gunfire,

zekes,

you name it -

the whole load of bullshit still raining down on us for almost two years now.

Times change,

allegiances shift as swiftly as the wind -

and here I am wondering where it all went wrong...

Bugger, forgot to introduce myself - where are my manners?

The name's Robert Smith,

I'm currently Twenty-Seven,

I'm British if you couldn't already tell by the accent - I was a military man,

before this shit went down...everything changed -

mother nature being the prime example of change - those that didn't, died.

I think I changed too much -

well beyond my mind's capability of keeping me entirely sane...

the voices of my men still ring in my ears to this day as if it were the day they were spoken...

their faces still haunting me in terrifying flashbacks -

or paralysing nightmares...

The shakes are still causing me to break down in front of several other people who've become friends of mine...

given us a common enemy,

and a fair bit of common ground with some of the boys in this little group of ours...

It's one of the few things keeping me from going overboard and into the path of the insane...

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder -

if you shitheads listening were wondering -

I wouldn't wish it on anyone -

especially those with survivor guilt like almost everyone else in this god-forsaken hellhole.

The memories are still there -

some fresh, but some stagnant -

others whisked away on a train that will never return...

all the good ones have long since left my increasingly damaged mind...

all that's left is a brittle husk of the man I once was -

fucking highly commended and all that bullshit - and I'm the shithead of my lot that has to survive?

I swear some days would be easier if the bullet with my number on it - winds up in my skull - and finally I'll be at peace...

Listen to me drone on about how hard life is...Jesus Christ, I was never this bad two years ago...then again - too much has changed.

The stories will have to wait,

the Fangs are still running about -

hunting those down who deem it 'Fun' or 'Necessary' to steal, rob, torture and all that other bullshit that people find the excuse to do to their fellow man...

Hell, I'm already broken, then again -

'The Harder you Beat a Man, the Taller he Stands' -

and I'd be fucking surprised if anyone is left standing after this god-forsaken abomination that was released onto this planet...

That's my first entry wasted...fucking brilliant.

//More coming soon, will update with audio and new entries - feedback is appreciated.

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