Dante:
Well okay...I will start first in this journal...I promise if anyone reads this...
So I guess I should start out saying that I am a proud black 16 year old male. My best friend's name is Hawkins. He is well umm I guess you can say he is different...but he is still cool. Oh yeah this is suppose to be about me. Okay I guess you can call me a loner. I don't really get along with many people. Well actually I should say they don't get along with me. By that I mean they are too immature to hang out with someone as mature as I am...LOL I can't do this. The real me is a joker. I don't take thing seriously, neither does Hawkins. I guess that is what makes us good friends. I really don't get along with many other because they say I'm to immature. Their just jealous though! One day this will realize the true power of DANTE!!! I don't get close to people...I refuse to. I live for myself and no one else! People need to learn this is the way of life and that they to need to stop caring about other people. People shouldn't even got along with their families because. They will only hold you back! I have dealt with this first hand...I got tired of them and just left. Now I live with Hawkins and some other people at our own house...and guess what...It is BIGGER and BETTER than my old families house! And we all get along! So I'm suppose to write a motto I live by...hmmm I guess it would be..
"Live for today and yourself no one else!"
My name is Amelia Ripley, and I am a teacher. This wasn't my first calling; however, it pays the bills, and Lord knows I have enough of those with a young son. Boys have a way of injuring themselves more than girls. But enough of this drivel. I'm supposed to tell you about the "real" me.
A long time ago, I was in a relationship. A very...abusive one. I had the living crap beaten out of me several times, while I tried to figure out how to get out. I didn't want to be the cliche: "I can change him," "But he said he was sorry," "He only hits me because he loves me." Total crap, people. This guy didn't know how to love. He only knew how to hurt. And hurt he did.
The night I ended up in the hospital, on a respirator and three months pregnant was the night I decided to leave him. I stayed in the hospital for a few days, and against medical advice, left in the middle of the night. I fled to Oklahoma City in hopes of starting a new life, but I will never forget. I started getting healthy, and strong. I found a job. I found a home. I found myself. And I'll be damned if these zombies are going to take that away from me.
