I’m scared, I miss my father and god won’t answer my prayers. The Grate family wants us dead, they refuse us food and water, nothing to trade. My mother begged Mrs. Grate for food when brother was dying, but she refused. One of the other family’s gave brother their last bit of jerky, but once she fed him she realized he was already gone. I’ll never forget what he looked like, sullen cheeks, grey skin, like a ghoul. I prayed for a peaceful death, but he starved for weeks. My sister seems close behind him, mother and I are keeping her well fed.
But this isn’t my biggest fear. No, my biggest fear is what they would do with brothers body. These people are monsters. Monsters desperate to survive. It was about a week ago when I saw the first corpse being skinned. They took his flesh and dried it. I know they ate it. I know they all are. They hide the bodies in the snow.
I told mother and she told me she also saw. She and I carefully buried brother somewhere where he wouldn’t be found. Where they wouldn’t defile him for their selfish pursuit in life. How could they have no shame in eating our companions.
I’m scared that if on one night, one of them stormed our cabin, I would not be able to fight back. I’m weak from starvation, as is mother and sister. Is this what it’s like to be a sitting duck? Will starvation take me? The freezing cold? My party members?
I don’t want to die.
Comments