Claustrophobic | Skephalo

Dear Diary

Darryl

Waking up in a world where no one else ever slept is probably one of the best ways I can describe it: the after effect of being cured. It's as if the whole world kept moving on without you, and then suddenly— you're back. It's hard for me to put it into words. I feel like I've travelled through time.

Sometimes, I remember things— well... Bits and pieces of things. Maybe it's the way a word rolls off Zak's tongue, or maybe it's a familiar scent of a food I don't remember ever eating. Everything is still here, I know it is. I just wish there was some way to unlock it.

Zak has been the most supportive out of all my friends. We've grown really close over the past few weeks since I've met him— or, since I remember meeting him. Every day, we sit for hours and he tells me things about my past that he remembers. We must have talked a lot before, because he seems to know everything! Although... I'm not exactly sure what of our relationship was before I turned. We refer to each other as friends, but... I don't know... I can't remember what flirting looks like, but the word always finds its way into my brain whenever I have a light-hearted conversation with Zak. If we were dating he would have mentioned it by now, right? Or maybe I'm just imagining things... Not that it would be bad, o course.

Vincent seems to know a lot about me too. He says that the two of us were friends long before the apocalypse started. I can't even imagine the old world as he describes it, but I have no choice but to believe him. I guess there is always going to be a time when things were better. There's no point on dwelling over it. I just want to remember what I've been through, and move on.

Dave is just like me in the sense that he lost his memory as an effect of being cured. Yet, for some reason, I seem to remember a lot more than he does. He doesn't have the same sense of familiarity with certain things as I do. It's most likely random, but I like to consider myself special for it. The two of us aren't the closest, but we have a tight bond over it, and it's nice to talk to someone who understands sometimes.

Life has been... Pretty good, if it makes sense for me to say that. Even if it's not all completely true, I still enjoy spending time with everyone in Zak's house. We have a seemingly endless supply of food and water, and lots of time to ourselves. I really like to play fetch with Rocco, Zak's dog, down by the stream. It gives me a sort of nostalgic feeling, like I used to do it a lot. But who knows if that's true?

I've learned a lot of things about myself in the past few weeks. And— who knows? Maybe I'll learn even more. I've begun to write things down in case I ever start to lose my memories again, but Clay assures me that won't happen. I'd rather be safe than sorry. That's something else I learned; I trust my instincts, even when they're not in my favor. Zak says it's the hunter in me—

The sound of the door opening breaks Darryl's train of thought, so he places his pen down besides the journal he had been writing in.

"Whatcha writing?" Zak wanders into his bedroom and over to the boy, placing his chin on Darryl's shoulder as he attempts to peek over.

Darryl closes the book. "That's for me to know, and for you to... Not know!"

"Keeping secrets already?" Zak clicks his tongue. "You really are falling back into old habits."

"That's a good thing," Darryl says, leaning back in his chair. "Well... Maybe not the secrets part."

"I'm just messing with you. I think it's cute you're keeping a little diary."

"It's not a diary!"

"Oh! Dear diary, today was filled with magical unicorns and pink fluffy clouds—" Zak bursts into laughter before he can finish his sentence.