"You and I"

 

If you're reading this, I'm sorry to scare you, though chances are that if your day has been anything like mine--let's be honest, you've probably pissed your pants at least once. At this point, I'm not ashamed. Because if you're reading this, there's a small chance that you and I are the last two people alive in the world.

There's nobody else here. No one is answering the phone, and the websites I visit haven't changed since yesterday. I have a pedometer. It tells me that I walked eight miles through my town today. Eight empty miles, covered without anyone else coming outside to answer the door or silence the car alarms that I kept setting off or see why there was some crazy girl walking down the middle of the street with a baseball bat and a chef's knife, crying until her lungs were in shreds.

What you see above is the one thing I've found that might be a clue. Someone left that camera there in the middle of the sidewalk. The view screen or whatever it's called was open on the other side. I think someone recorded video.

I have the camera with me. For what it's worth, I left a note on the door of the house next to where I found it. I'm not a total savage--not yet, anyway. But if you're out there, please let me know. I don't care where in the world you are; when I take a look at whatever's on the memory card, I don't want to be alone.