The End of the World

I didn't make if very far.

Two steps outside the front door and I found myself face to face with the man who collapsed in the backyard a few days ago. Needless to say, he didn't look well. And my attempts to speak with him were returned with illegible moans.

He was anything but quick, however I was caught so off guard he managed to catch the door as I attempted to back up into the house. He forced his way through apparently trying to bite me, and although he wasn't quick his strength didn't seem to diminish with his state of living (or dying). In a panic I abandoned the door and ran for the nearest room. Which, unfortunately, was the living room in the back corner of the house. Only one way in or out. He followed me as quickly as he could. I put the sofa between him and myself and whether out of shear determination or stupidity he came after me tripping over the sofa and tumbling to the ground. Before I even had the chance to see him get up I ran for the door, locking it behind myself.

I've only now calmed down enough to type and my legs still feel like jelly. But perhaps worst of all, even up here on the third floor I can hear him moaning, scrapping and banging the walls.

I think I'll leave the grocery trip for another day. For now I'll just rest. Although I can't imagine it will be easy to do with all that noise.