Thinking about the past, it feel like a dream. Fighting for endless days, wishing for either a quick end without having to be defiled or at least one hour of rest without being ambushed for just closing your eyes. Also thinking about it, having to weigh the facts of which is more important, a meal bar and bottle of 'stilled water. Or another magazine clip to keep the faceless thugs at bay. Now, i'm quite thankful for having all the time to myself, a little nook of space here in Sunrise City, out of sight and mind. Where I can sleep comfortably, store my meal bars where no rats, human or animal alike can sniff em out and bottles of purified water.. the kind you can actually see through. Where the only taste you can get from it, is the taste of refreshment.

Sometimes, I really have to wonder. Am I dreaming now? Is this an illusion dreamstate given to me by being killed in my sleep? Or am I going to wake up to being penetrated by a tip of a knife and someone hovering over me not wanting to finish me off until he finishes. Scary thoughts indeed, but I long since been numb to being shaken. Sounds of gunfire still ring in the air, distant, yet ever continuous. A reminder that i'm still here, still in the fight. Just, in a safe zone that Sunrise City is.

I do feel itchy without my weapons in hand within these city walls, but I can remedy that by getting them when I go gathering some supplies from the stockade. I'm sure those thugs have found a way to resupply themselves by their own means, but I have been noticing, they keep beefing their security with each run I make. Although, I know how and where they keep getting their own supplies, just, how do they keep getting more thugs to guard them? It's like the more I kill the more there are. But I shouldn't really complain. I get out alive, get gome supplies from the bags I grab and extra meal bars from their pockets. Chewing on these still warm bars as I return to the safe zone that's growing on me. I am quite thankful that I managed to find this place.

-Syliani Lightfoot.

"Am I lonely?"

I've been on my own since I broke ties with a family that broke apart when everything went to hell. Once upon a time I use to have a real name, Sylia Nichole Sterling, and my family was one of the upper class invester types having caretakers and maidservants all part of one huge nest. But when the stocks plumeted so did family values, loyalty and everyone turned on one another in less than a day. Well not everyone, Gwen my caretaker, stayed with me even when we couldn't afford to pay her. We took care of each other held our own for a while as we watched the end of the world as it practically was.

I learned quickly what it means fend for myself in this dog eat dog world. And with me being a spoiled house cat, I too had learn to bear my fangs and draw blood. I'll admit it at that time I was a scared kitten but quickly it started to feel great. Gwen wasn't so pleased, always fretting like a mother, telling me life will always remain precious. She kept her conviction you know, even to her death as she protected mine. I'll miss her, that's no lie. But am I lonely? No. I am thankful. I survived this long on my own, thanks to her. And I'll keep it that way.

Late night i walk to my bedroom; lie on my bed and i watch to the stars and wander my self.... WT where is the roof??!!!!!

keep up the good story