Journal Entry #2
Appalachia, Day 46: 68F, hazy.
Nightmarish and restless sleep. I dreamt of people I do not know sleeping in my bed and posing for pictures crouching over my sleeping form quickly…to mimic the act of the “tea bag”. I awoke parched and miserable. The last glucose covered flakes of the Sugar Bombs I found in Grafton I managed to suck out of a t-shirt I found in a trash can (along with a paper cup and a wrench). Must find food. I shall try and find Chad’s camp to see if any of my missing supplies are there. On the way I’ll pass his grave. I say grave. More disconcertingly, my Pipboy has broadcast my position and someone or something has placed a bounty on me. I have heard tales of Vault-Tec’s “experimental” vaults, but who on Earth could’ve seen what I did? Who could’ve known?
Appalachia, Day 46 (continued):
Alarmingly the trash can is empty. Chad’s body appears to be missing. Couldn’t see any tracks in the area, so it’s unlikely wildlife dragged him off somewhere. It’s almost as if some unholy force resurrected him. But that…(meaningless scribbles and obscenities)
A search of his “camp” was however, fortuitous. I found a scrawled note in a paper bag. It indicates that there may be a diner nearby with a functioning food dispenser. I shall strike out this afternoon in search of much needed food. Sky grows dark in the west…the empty trash can.
Appalachia, Day 47: 62F, hungry.
It’s pie. A perfectly preserved piece of PIE. Not irradiated, or spoiled…or found obscenely and impossibly in the folds of skin on a molerat. A piece of delicate pie with pink frosting. While the machine appears functional, it employs a Machiavellian tension arm. I am on my 8th hour attempting to retrieve this pie.
Appalachia, Day 51:
It’s there. It’s right there. Pie. Why won’t you grab it? Are you broken? Are you taunting me? I want the pie. Please. So hungry…ate some raw molerat meat. I have worms now. Fuck Chad.
Apielacha, Day 52:
Pie. Pie. Pee pie po pum. Please won’t you. Pie please. So tired…must keep pying. Health low.
I wonder, will I dream?