It's been two years since the outbreak. I have been spending my days just simply surviving. Day after day of scavenging and running from the infected gets tiresome after awhile. It is just me alone in this foreign state with the infected. Some days are so bad I wonder if it is even worth it to continue on at all. It wasn't always like this, you know. Even after the outbreak, people banded together to keep the morale of the camps uplifted and to keep our society going. However, days turned into months and months into years and hope slowly began to fade away. Our humanity was stripped from us as people reverted to violence in our decaying state of hysteria. Eventually, our camps were torn apart from the inside; scattering the remaining survivors across Chernarus, Russia. Now, you cannot trust anyone. Most of the living are now bandits who are looking out only for their own needs. I have started this journal in the hopes that my story will be told and that my life will not fade away as just another unfortunate soul that died in the aftermath of the infection.
