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Radio Silence

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Crisp moonlight passes through the cracked window. Barely enough to make a lone sheet of paper glow as if it were phosphorescent. Albert takes a seat with the lonely paper and begins writing as his HAM radio emits a low but constant static.

I don't know where to sta

My name is Albert Oxford. I haven't told anyone my name in 10 months. I haven't seen a person living person in 10 months. 10 months ago my fellow junky Travis let me crash at his place while everything went crazy. I don't think he wanted my company, just the morphine I stole. We stayed in his place nodding in and out consciousness while screams, groans, and gunshots never ceased. Hell the power gave out before the chaos did. As always the high came to an end, and the withdrawals set in. I had been outside during all the insanity, it's how I got the morphine, but Travis thought it would all quiet down. His withdrawals must've been terrible for him to wander outside in desperation. He never came back. I waited and waited, and after a week just stopped worrying about it. I am across the globe from my home, stranded in a foreign country with no idea what the hell is going on. When Travis's food ran out I started breaking into the other apartments, well the quiet ones at least.

Today there was not a morsel remaining. I left the building with nothing but the clothes on my back, not sure what to expect outside. The commotion stopped a long time ago, and even today the city was silent. As I looked around the city I found only two sick people, both of which I avoided like the plague (haha, gotta have a sense of humor). It seems I wasn't the only one suffering from a food problem. I found discarded guns and clothing everywhere, but food? Maybe 2 or 3 cans of food in this entire God forsaken city. 

As the sun started setting I felt the need to get out of the city. What if the sick people are more active at night? I found this old house up the hill and a clear view of all of Berezino. There was an old radio by the fire place. I have no idea how to work it, but not matter what I did, no matter how desperately I tried, I couldn't hear another human voice. I have no idea how to work a damn radio. That really hit home today. For so long I could just "google" or "youtube" something as simple as this. But now I have a rifle I don't understand, and a radio I can't use.

 So now I am writing this. I spent the last 10 months in a room just existing. No thinking, no wondering, no praying, just staying alive, alone. I wonder where everyone is? No bodies. No signs. It's like everyone just picked up and left. Maybe the refugee camps were a success? I am going to head back to my grandparent's farm in Guglovo. Hopefully I will find answers out there. Hopefully someone else passes through here and reads this note, so at least they know they're not alone out here.

-Albert "Oxy"

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