Day 2, Year 2.
It’s been two years since the day it happened. Well, ,two years and a day. I was going to start this writing yesterday but I just couldn’t make myself get up. It was too hard, too painful.
Two years ago, I woke up one day and there was no one around. No one. There were no cars driving to work, no cars on any road at all. When I got to my office, no one at all was there. Not a single person. Even on the weekends, someone will be at the office. My husband never came home from work that night. I tried to phone my family and his family and no one answered. Every shop I tried - empty. When I say there was no one around, I mean no one.
I didn’t sleep for two days. I left a note at home for my husband, saying I was driving around to try to find him. After exhaustion finally hit me, I slept for a day. I decided to try further and further out, venturing away from my home for days at a time but always returning, hoping I would find my husband. It took three weeks for the power to go out. I guess there was something needing a human touch somewhere.
After two years of constantly returning home, I’ve decided not to try to come back. I have left so many notes for my husband, telling him I would come back for him, only to find him not there. The note I left on the door this morning said I was going to travel the entire world now. Every last bit of it I could get to. I’m even going to cross the gibraltar strait in the winter to get to asia and europe. I’ve mapped out how to go everywhere.
I have a giant truck and a gas siphon. I’ve filled the truck with books on how to operate things. I’m reading about how to sail right now. The truck is loaded with canned food and bottled water. I’ve been working on getting power anytime I can, but without the internet, all electricity does for me is give me an ability to watch dvd’s or have a light at night that isn’t a flashlight. Right now, the one thing I can do is break into libraries and find books that’ll tell me what I need to know to find someone.
If I don’t find anyone, I will return home. Even after two years, I want to believe that I will see my husband again. If I didn’t have that hope, I don’t think I could continue on. I’m writing this journal now in case I never make it home. If there is someone out there, I want them to see proof that I am here, too. Wish me luck.