‘The Virus’ by Molly Bugg, age 14

It all started 6 months ago. The Virus had already wiped out the vast majority of the human population. As far as I knew, I was the only living thing left on the planet. These following extracts are taken from the walls of my cellar in Michigan, America.

My name is Madison Sallow.

And I am alive.

June 23.

57 days have passed since my father went missing. He ventured from the safety of our home in search of firewood, he never returned. I am writing from the cellar today because the clouds above have finally turned green, constantly lingering above me, scarred and hollow. I had to take cover owing to the fact that the air was full of it. Everywhere was full of it. The Virus. Everywhere. My supplies are thinning out more and more every day and I do not know how long they will last. My worries are gone however. There is nothing left to live for. If I finally die like everybody else, I will be at peace. I can no longer endure this torturous existence, but I refuse to give in due to the slim prospect of a cure, a faint glimmer of light still at the back of my mind.

June 27.

I devoured the last crumbs of my rations today but I am welcoming what will happen. The cellar is darker than ever and a foul odour has begun to seep through the cracks in the floorboards.  The possibility of a way out now is gone. Just me and my thoughts waiting to die. Although, several hours ago, I made out a distant high-pitched holler from the street. Nevertheless, my body is too emaciated to even consider investigating it. My skeleton is now fully visible, my ribs are raw in my chest and my skin is like glass.

July 1. 

I have nothing left to give. These are my last words. If this cellar is ever found, I would like you to know my name is Maddison Sallow, I fought to the death but my body is beaten and I accept defeat. Now I shall lay here to rest undisturbed and content. Goodbye.

July 2. 

They came.