Essay: Creative Dystopia the Stalkers are moving

It’s feels like it’s been forever, I’m sitting in this SUV wishing I could be back with my family,

It’s horrifying just thinking about how far I am from my mother. I am telling you this because I have nothing else to do but stare out the window and write in this journal. I am hoping that this journal will get to you somehow. The catastrophes that happened this week are insane. My town has been taken over by a militant group and they told me that no one could help us even if they tried; my mum told me that everything was ok, that everything would be fine, that we would be able to live in a better place. A place we could call home. I couldn’t believe her for a second – I wanted to but I couldn’t. We were told there is something more out there, something more than the idiotic soldiers they call guardians with their white body armour. But there are these things called Stalkers: they roam around the abandoned cities feasting off of the survivors that are still out there. I’m scared, but I have to fend for myself at the moment.

I think we’re heading towards Washington. I remember going down this road towards it with my family, it was one of the best times of my life. I heard rumours that there’s a group of  rescuing people who are still out there. There are people who are near death or having trouble with the guardians and they are taken to different bases scattered around America. I wish I could be like them, join them somehow, but right now I’m stuck here in the back seat of this stupid car.

We’ve found a gas station. It’s a good place to stay for the moment – a nice place in the middle of no-where. Snowing now. My friend Jason, a man from our group, told me that it was gonna snow soon and there will be tonnes of wild animals everywhere. But he then told me that the stalkers would be coming too. It’s a horrifying thought, just thinking that my life or Jason or anyone in the group’s life could be coming to an end. It just sends a shiver down my spine thinking about it.

It’s winter now. I’ve found a cross-bow in the back of the car just sitting there, so I spent the past hour trying to hunt some rabbits. I haven’t found a single one, so I decided to go back inside and have a rest. We are gonna stay a while in the gas station. We’ve seen a lot of people drive past here honking their horns, and some of them have signs saying: ‘FOLLOW TOWARD FREEDOM’. An old man in our group said that they’d be cannibals and that they’re hungry for war and death. I couldn’t sleep that night knowing that there is something else out there, something dangerous and scary: I now know that.. The Stalkers are moving.