User:A Lost Boy/Peter

	Dual Nature
	This User or Group supports the Dual Nature Policy & believes that the citizens of Malton should embrace their two-fold nature.

All that's left is me... and these books...

There's always something... safe... about sleeping in Libraries.

	Free Information
	Libraries are for everyone and should remain barricade free.

	Sacred Ground Policy Supporter
	This user or group supports the Sacred Ground Policy and acknowledges that all Cemeteries in the city of Malton are considered Revivification Points.

Entry 1: I just want life to go back to the way it was...

Back when things were more... normal than they are now, I was happy. I had friends. I had a girl. We just had gerbils. I'm getting ahead of myself, where are my manners?
You can call me Peter. I'm a member and former Flock leader of the Santerville chapter of the Lost Boys, a graduate of the NeuroSci program, and have recently been enrolled in an internship position with NecroTech as one of their field technicians.
I grew up in a small family, not quite close by traditional standards, but we looked out for one another. We've lived in Malton for about three generations now, and we've known for awhile what the real dangers were. Our parents always told us stories at night and me and my brothers grew up with what most outside folk would call ghost stories... about werewolves and ghouls and other monsters that go bump in the night.
It's not that I didn't want to believe them, I just wanted to grow up and have a better life. It was in my freshman year that I met Gwendolyn. We had so much in common; we liked the same movies, we liked the same ice cream parlor, we even both liked gerbils. And we both wanted to have a better life than what everyone in town was accustomed to. But we were also responsible siblings who had brothers we had to look after.
Well, you know how the story usually goes. Gwen and I both grew up, but we never let go of our dreams. Everyone around us said they expected to be invited to our wedding, but we always thought we were too young, too free. And then the infection came rolling in like a dark cloud, shadowing all of Malton.
I lost a lot that day; my home, my family, my friends, my Wendy, Mr.Nibs. As I'm writing this entry, I'm not even sure if I'll make it through this time. I can only hope that wherever Gwen is, she's dreaming enough for the both of us.

Entry 2: Holy Hannah, where the heck am I now?!

Talk about a rude awakening! I woke up this morning, my clothes in tatters, my breath reeking of pennies, and in the middle of a cemetary! I've got.. I've got to get out of here! A Lost Boy 16:39, 21 November 2007 (UTC)

Entry 3: All you need is love... and a few FAKs

Holed up in the middle of a giant zombie convention with Mr Eliud. We're hoping the zombies will ape the lit buildings and not the open ones... I still can't remember where I've been the past few days. I remember dad always telling me... the best places... to... hide... *yawn* A Lost Boy 07:24, 23 November 2007 (UTC)

Week 4: Oh. Oh? Oh! Dear sweet merciful heavens! Oh no.. Oh n-- oh my god!

I was gone, gone for just a moment, and then... the visions. Those sick, twisted, warped visions I had been having. This time it seemed as if I would never awake from that horrible nightmare. There was a.. a spectacle of zombies around us. Just pure pandeomnium; an orgy of blood, death and guts. It was like Fight Club was held in a colissium, the rules were damned, and I was thrown in with B.A. Baracus for an hour.

As always, I awoke suddenly with a cold sweat and a sense of horror. This time, I was also accompanied by a swelling in my jaw, soreness in my ribs, and bruises along various squishy parts of my body. My clothes were in tatters and drenched in blood. Lots of blood. I couldn't tell where I was or what I was doing, but I could hear the cacophony of monsters echo from all around me.

I had to get out. I had to run.

I am not below admitting I was afraid. I was afraid of the zombies. I was afraid of myself. I was afraid of the darkness. As I wnadered down the streets of Kempsterbank, all I could find were heavily boarded up doors and windows sealed up tighter than safes. I guess I have to settle for sleeping in a junkyard tonight.

I just don't know what's happening. Not just this city, but to me as well. I mean, I may not have had the best upbringing, or the most supportive neighborhood, or even the nicest of friends, but things... things were never this bad.

I remember back when I met Johnny. I was a very different person back then, and so was he. This was back when we were just kids, no more than 14. I was hanging around with my big brothers and we were a bunch of, well, hooligans. Our dad couldn't handle all of us at once, so we eventually flocked to a gang of lost souls with a devil-may-care attitude. We took floaters from all corners of Malton. People everywhere began to learn you either were with us or you became very unlucky, very quickly.

When Johnny met us, or more like when we met Johnny, he knew this and he just joined up without so much a peep. I wasn't too keen on Johnny at first. He was at least a year younger than I was, face was always buried in some book or another, and he didn't exactly look like one of us. Didn't think like one of us either; he still believed adventure and excitement were just a fantasies found in his books. But having Johnny around meant I wasn't the shortest tyke I knew any more.

The irony of the story was, the more I pulled Johnny away from his books, the more I began to read them. I made Johnny take up sports; everything from fencing to swimming. In turn, Johnny showed me that monsters didn't have to be scarey; that they could just be pictures on a page. Johnny eventually became our high school's baseball star. He got a scholarship off his miracle last-inning closers and that became his ticket out of Malton. Johnny may have grown out of Malton, but I decided to stay. I stayed with Wendy and applied for an honors program, eventually getting an internship at NecroTech.

Today is my 4th week of this horrible apocalypse that has been regurgitated out of the depths of Malton. I must regularly write in this journal, not just to keep track of where I am but to make certain that I am not, as I fear, going insane. I have to keep focused. I have to remember who I was. I have to remember who I am. I have to stay alive. For Johnny. For Dad. For Gwen. A Lost Boy 16:19, 1 December 2007 (UTC)

Week 5: Snow.

Huh. Snow. It's been awhile since I've had fun in the snow.

Well, it's been a week so far. Hanging around with others in Peppardville, people who are trying to weather this disaster, has really helped my blackouts. As I write in this journal, over the blaring noise of the radios, I've almost forgotten about that... emptiness.

Reflecting upon these past few weeks, I really can't believe the outbreak happened now of all times. Just as I was getting over graduating. Just as I was starting internship with Necrotech. Just when I was making everyone proud that I was becoming an adult. The darkness came. The monsters start coming out. My entire family disappeared. My friends were either dead or gone. I had become seperated from Gwen. All I have keeping me going so far are my memories and whatever's left of my dreams.

I still have dreams. They're not as frightening anymore, but they're still creepy. Two nights ago I dreamt about a little blonde girl. She looked so familiar. She was wearing a name tag that said Belle. I can't remember if she said anything, but she kept tugging at one of my arms. Strangely enough Lily, my ex-girlfriend, was pulling at my other arm. I was looking around for Gwen. I wanted her to be there, I really did. But I just couldn't remember what her face looked like. Why couldn't I picture Gwendolyn's face that moment? What do these dreams mean? How did life become so hard? Who would do this??

Something is wrong with my life. I.. I just don't know how to fix it any more. A Lost Boy 20:24, 10 December 2007 (UTC)

Week 5.5: It's time to start a new Flock.

	On Tour
	This user is touring with the QSG, since they like the road less traveled by. And traveling is fun.

Week 7: Something... went terribly wrong.

I remember walking along the snow, passing by a mall... and then out of the blue I blacked out! I came too mere blocks away, my clothes bloodied and tattered. I was told a horde of undead had wandered through to town. Thank god the NecroTech staffers recognized me!
You know something, maybe it was a good thing that I stayed in Malton. After all, it doesn't seem as if the military is doing anything to help the current situation. It's up to people like us to calm down the populace, to give these poor brainless savages the help they need. Or in some instances, to finally place them behind bars so they can stop terrorizing poor innocent bystanders. A Lost Boy 02:52, 14 January 2008 (UTC)

Week 7.5: Didn't think there were still gangs in Malton.

I guess I was wrong. I ducked into a warehouse for a few minutes to avoid collapsing in a snow drift, only waking up to meet someone claiming to be the leader of Deus Ex Machina. About all I gleamed from the conversation was that he didn't like the color orange before he levelled his 12 gauge at me. I remember I felt a dragging sensation before I awoke, clothes slightly torn, just outside. I guess I owe the scientists by Shearbank my thanks for another speedy recovery. I think I'll just lie down here in the snow... just for a few more minutes. It doesn't hurt. Heh, no it doesn't hurt Mr.Nibbs. It's just.. the fall.. that hurts.. a little. A Lost Boy 20:32, 14 January 2008 (UTC)

Week 8: It used to be East and West.

Now the divide seems to be South and North. There were so many asking for my help in the southside of town, it was almost depressing. I couldn't help them all, but thankfully others who could were on the scene as well. I helped them rebuild their shelters as best I could, but it seems the cold is finally taking it's toll on me. I was out of breath, stumbling, and now I have to go back to search for more supplies. But mark my words! Tomorrow I shall redouble my efforts to cure those poor souls! A Lost Boy 19:00, 26 January 2008 (UTC)

Week 9: Gkk! Dying! Need. To reach. Hospital!

Male Way... danger... One more step... Just one more...
Hospital... get to... I must... must... buy milk... Mr.Nibbs?
I don't think... A funny thing happened...
Gwennnnn...A Lost Boy 15:28, 31 January 2008 (UTC)

Week 11: It's a Long Way to Tipperary...

I woke up again lost and a long way from home. I almost forget what home is like, wrestling with my brothers, listening to grandpa give us lip about how tough it was "back in the rough days".
But that was in the past. As time marches on, the definition of home changes. This is the present, and home is the Flock. This year we get an extra day for freeeedom! A Lost Boy 12:55, 20 Febuary 2008 (UTC)

Week 12: You Wouldn't Want to See Me Angry

I woke up again lost and a long way from home. I almost forget what home is like, wrestling with my brothers, listening to grandpa give us lip about how tough it was "back in the rough days".
But that was in the past. As time marches on, the definition of home changes. This is the present, and home is the Flock.

I've helped a lot of good people in the past four weeks, hopefully a few of them will feed the Flock in the future. And I wasn't alone. Plenty of others, from doctors and police officers to philosophers and tourists, have aided in the fight for a new home.
And fight I will.
This might still be the concussion speaking, but I feel angry. Angry that my old home is gone. Angry that these sad shambling excuses for living beings are marching over my new home. Angry at those liars and murderers. Angry that I haven't been doing enough to protect those around me. Starting today, I'm mad as heck and I'm not going to take this any more! A Lost Boy 19:37, 3 March 2008 (UTC)