Some scorched, fragile scraps of parchment...
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THC: The Little Dust Covered Book
Some scorched, fragile scraps of parchment...
August 28,
So many things have been stripped from my grasp. All of which were because of my negligence and idiocy, or simply because I was forced to choose a decision that was already made for me. Much like the hundred jokers a few feet below me and my old pistol on my lap. After seven days and all that is left to sustain me is a few more hardtack crackers, I've come to the obvious solution but find myself unable to carry out the deed. So many things, so many people I have left without a proper goodbye or apology.
To the Child of the Rain, the little colt that I found all alone in last days of the Plague. The sliver of sanity and remorse that helped more than a rifle could. The child that was so close to my heart that I soon saw as my own, that *we** saw as our own. I only wish I could've l lead him in a better direction, with his adoptive parents and not into the manipulative hooves of a complete stranger. I have not the slightest notion were or what has become of him but I pray in my morality and my intimate death that he is still alive and yearns for us, just as I do.*
To my long gone lovely Garnet, who I still love dearly despite her almost suicidal hatred of me. Im sorry that I left you, with so much to carry in your heart, with so much confusion. But just know I did it for him, to keep him safe, and rid him of any notion of being torn apart by the damned. I left you all with no explanation and I too, have a dire hatred for my self, which is partially bring my hoof to rid myself of this world. It was so hard to leave you, so hard for me to hear you yell for my blood, it torn apart my very being, my very soul. I have looked into the eyes of countless undead, seen the true face of death, their soulless eyes and their lust for flesh. That day, I became no better than them.
To my Commanding Officer. I hold no place in my heart for your own cold lump, the one that refused to help a child in such a rotting city like Canterlot. The reason you even hold a place in my final testament is for me to announce my official resignation from the Equestrian Union National Guard. I hope you find this you spoiled dog.
As my sanity is replaced by the hungry growls of these undead, I wonder if anyone might find this record. I wonder if my love and my little one is still alive, as happy as one can be in his new reality. Everything that I have done in my life, the lives that I have taken in the name of my nation and my own life com back to make me question my continued existence. Why haven't I been torn apart by these beast like the many I have seen before?
Is there a reason some on such as myself, is worth the effort? I might never know, as many of my past decisions and actions cloud my judgement. I might just be writing this just to occupy myself so I can distance myself from my suicide. Why don't I just try...
August 30,
I tried to run of the scaffolding to the other building, but I got a little souvenir from one of them. My bones feel like they've broken into a thousand shards and are constantly grinding into my flesh. Its so incredibly cold, Im drowning a pool of my own blood and sweat. The dust in this place is filling my lungs, making it almost impossible to breath. It hurts so much, so so much.
I left my gun, too weak to even lift it. I don't know how long I have left until I go, until I become one of them. The jokers. Im too weak to even move, even to hurl myself off this roof and save myself the eternal torment. I miss her so much, I miss my Garnet. She was such a sweet heart, but a tough old mare, fit enough to join the Reserves. I love her so much its hurts more then the coming of my death.
She used to work for the post, as a journalist, and a damn good one at that. She wrote a lot of reports about the Plague, she worked the press, the telegraph, she could've owned that place if she had the cash. But the mare persevered, and that what I loved about her. Garnet never gave up on a dream, on a goal. She didn't deserve a stallion like me, a deserter.
I cant really remember anything due to the pain, why I left and who I left with. Im sure I left with someone, some one very important and dear to me. I-
September 1st,
Im running on fumes now, I could feel deaths cold caress around me. I managed to crawl to the edge of the roof, the jokers are down there looking up at me. I could smell those disgusting beasts. The ones that stole the faces of our loved ones and turned them into soulless, flesh hungry animals.
Were will I go when I die? I had a pretty good idea its not going to be white lights, fluffy clouds and pearly gates. Im just not worth it. I cant even remember my own name. To anyone that might find this, do what you wish with this, but only if you take this to my love. My Garnet. The only name I seem to know. The only pony that I will ever love.
Garnet...
Garnet...
I love you so much it hurts...
