Author's Note: The original idea for this is "Stranger in a Strange Land", which is also on my account here. This is a different apocalypse and character though. "Stranger in a Strange Land" was fairly popular when I wrote it; I hope this one will be as liked as that one. This story is completely devoted to all those fans of mine who kept asking for more of my RE stuff. You guys are awesome and I'm sorry you had to wait so long!



"Dog Days of Post-Paradise"

Prologue: Journal Entry 4

Journal Entry 4: 2014, July 20th.

Status: Hiding….sort of.

Time is irrelevant here.

I stop writing and tap the pen furiously. I can barely see what I'm writing the candles are so dim. I sigh and get up, deciding to get better lighting for the room before I continue. I find a breaker box and a generator, a few minutes later there is electricity in the abandon house and I sit back down at the desk in the corner I had been sitting at, my journal and pen waiting for me.

There are no clocks, no calendars, and it seems like the days are so much longer than they used to be.

I stop writing again and realize just how sloppy my hand writing is. It feels strange when I write with my left hand, like wearing a shoe on the wrong foot. My brows furrow, I watch fist sized moths gather towards the lights that are on in the house. I fist my left hand in and out, exercising it. Then I put the pen in my right hand and begin to write again.

Things, people, animals; they've all changed.

I pause and look at the differences between my handwriting with my left hand then with my right. I fist my right hand in and out, discovering I am right handed. I knew this vaguely but not entirely, now I knew for sure, and appreciated the information. It was nice to learn new things about myself. Then I begin to write again.

The world has had its life sucked out of it. The green plants that used to grow are no more, the animals that used to be so docile are now monsters, people are so sad and distant, and the sky is no longer its old blue color. The sky is grey and ugly, the Earth is a desert, and the world is strange. I know why but the facts are too far for me to reach in my head.

I pause and sigh, holding the pen in my hand. I roll it around on my fingers then look out the window to my side. The sky is dark, the world is lifeless, and I don't even hear crickets singing their usual song. Everything seems so dead, even I feel hollow. I rub my head as a migraine starts to come on; that happens when I try to force myself to remember. So I stop myself from thinking and continue writing.

I write this for myself, hoping that if I ever lose my memory again I can read this and remember. I found this on my person the day I woke up in the hospital; this journal. There were already three entries in it along with many doodles and drawings. There was also one picture. This picture helped give me a large idea of who I was, vague images and memories coming back, but I still don't remember my name or what happened to the world.

It is frustrating to have it on the tip of my tongue, the back of my head, but I just can't reach it.

I stop writing again as lightning strikes outside, thunder booming right behind it. Yet, the sound of rain drops never come. Even if it were to rain it would be acid, probably, because of the way the sky is. I can feel the lightning, the change in humidity, the electricity in the air, the smell of strengthened ozone, as if it were nothing. I ignore these distracting sensations and get back to my writing.

The day I woke up in the hospital there was no one there, the entire town was empty. What could have caused such a large act of disappearances, I don't know. My gut was warning me to leave, there was a tingling sensation in the back of my head telling me to go north, and my heart was telling me to go home.

I ended up going home.

I found myself in a small town in South Dakota called Sunset. I walked all the way there, finding nothing on the way, and not breaking a sweat with even such a lengthy walk. I let my legs guide me as I walked down street after street. Some houses were destroyed, cars tipped over, cars left sitting in the road, and not a body to be seen.

I found myself at a little rock covered house, along a very nice looking street. I walked down the paved walkway and found the front door unlocked. I went inside and looked around. There were three bedrooms, two of them were girl's rooms, most likely teenaged. There was posters and art everywhere; both rooms were significantly different, the two girls most likely having very different tastes. I found myself in many different pictures in both rooms. Pictures of me and this other girl smiling, she looked very similar to me so I imagined she was my sister, younger than me as well.

Something inside my heart told me the room behind the door with a dragon poster was mine. Video game, zombie movie, and anime posters lined each wall. The bed's sheets had angel wings all over them and there were drawings of angels above the bed's base board. The drawings match the ones in the journal so I knew they were mine.

Lastly I went into the last bedroom. It was a man's bedroom, messy, and unkempt. There was cologne on the desk in the corner as well as a box of tools. There was one picture on the side of the desk, held there by glue. It matched the picture in my journal perfectly.

The picture was of a mid-aged man, wearing a baseball cap, hugging his two daughters at a baseball field. The two girls wore little league uniforms and were smiling brightly. The two girls were younger than the ones in some of the other pictures, but it still matched them.

This only meant one thing; I had a little sister and a dad out there, somewhere.

Vague memories came back into my mind then. That day at little league practice, last winter when Daddy took me and my sister ice skating, that night when me and my younger sister had a heart to heart, and to many other memories I couldn't count.

Emotions, so many emotions filled me, but only one stayed; determination. I would find my little sister and dad, no matter what!

That is my mission; I will find answers and then them. It has been a week since I left home, now I don't know where I am. I am truly lost in this new world.

I don't remember my name yet, but if there is anything I have to remember it's them.


I found myself slamming down the pen as I finished, more raw emotions filling me. The pen shattered and a hole was left in the desk. I jumped back, the chair falling out from under me. My body slammed down onto the floor and I felt a huge bruise get left there. I sucked in a deep pained breath before quickly slinging myself back up to run to the bathroom. The bathroom was just around the corner and held a foot long mirror in it. I ran up to it and pulled up the shirt I was wearing to peer at my side. The bruising was a dark blue and felt incredibly painful. I clamped my eyes shut in pain for a second and when I opened them the bruise was gone! Vanished!

I felt of my side as I held my shirt up, it was completely healed. I gaped at myself, than noticed something. I started freaking out at what the mirror was showing me. I got closer and closer to the reflective surface; my eyes wide, my breath caught in my throat.

There, in the mirror, were my eyes….they were yellow.


End Note: I sincerely do not know how I feel about this beginning. -_- I wrote it at three am and I don't know if I should keep it or not. I wanted to give out some detail about the character without giving away too much, make it vague and mysterious while she still doesn't have any memories. Then next chapter I'll jump ahead a couple of months and have her personality *boom* there! Also I want next chapter to be action filled but still mysterious. I thought the journal idea would be good, different. But I don't know.

Please; someone tell me if I should re-write this?

R&R please!