Safehouse 721, Yadreni House
Poka, Lypton, Psveurtzke
Operation Reanimation Day 16
Soon after Dallas moved in, I became pregnant!
Identification: Operation Reanimation Subject 2A, Kallias Yadreni. Named randomly
Three long days later, I gave birth to a cute little baby boy, Kallias.
These days flew by like a chicken soars over a large pit of spikes. They didn't. They were terrible. But he grew up all the same.
A week after he first moved in and got a job doing art, Dallas got his first promotion, through a chance happening. The problem here was that he left early, before he could eat lunch... and I had already made hot dogs for the day.
Identification: Agent 0000. Duties involve leading the Eternal Underworld. Intelligence level -∞.
Agent 0000: I̜͔̰̜͖͖̦͡ ̛̬D̷̙͈̟̟͚͕ỊD͎̭͖̩̗͉̺͞N̦̗̗̺͚̕'̣Ṯ ͚T͈̰̞̳͓͜H͕I͍͈N̥͖̫̻̤̮͡ͅK͚ ̛̜̟̠̖̙̲T͏̙͉̤̠̟͎̖H́I̮͈S̛̩ ͍̪W̸͓̜̪Ọ̮͚͜U̯L̳͕͎͈ͅD̙̖̰̮̥̜́ ̳̘̼̻ͅH̞̠̦̤̳͕͞A̠P̜͖͉̥P̴̩͉̘̙E̸̜̪ͅN̦̼̬̣͞ ̶͍̺̞͕̲̥T̵͖͔̹͇̩H͏̟̤͍I͍̫̗̫̹͕̰S͍ ̸̳̱̻͚̫E͍A̜R̻̖̖̦L̹͈̫̻̗̝͎Y̩͈͟.̛̥͈̲̝͖̪
My husband died of starvation. I knew the situation here was terrible; every person I know is the only survivor of their family. This was the first time I felt the same pain, though.
Due to a paranormal sensation that came with the bomb detonating, I couldn't move the grave, so it stayed where he died.
I only work on Wednesdays, and luckily Dallas had Wednesdays off which meant he could take care of Kallias. But now he was dead, so I quit my job.
I attempted to revive my cheerful nature by cultivating the land I revived myself. All of the plants died within days due to an abundance of nuclear ash.
Kallias ended up learning to speak. I figured 1 for 3 was pretty good for the circumstances.
Like father like son, I guess!
I know I've supposed to have been building a little bit each day, but... keeping up with it hasn't been my biggest priority. Hopefully it'll be mostly finished by the time I live there in my senility.
Identification: Subject 2A, Kallias Yadreni. Intelligence level: Modified 2-fit for childhood. Author all following, sans bolds or italics.
Government personality classification: 5-10-10-3-7.
Thanks to one of my dads dying and the other descending into madness, the government told me at my first day of school that I'm to start my journal early. I barely have the ability to write, but apparently some supernatural figure edits these. I don't really want to know.
Dad's not the only one going crazy, I think. I would be happy more of the time if I could take a shower, I think. I always feel too dirty to do homework, even to play chess.
I am glad my dad managed to finish his memoirs before my other dad died. Peter Y. is the only way I can have any fun around here.
I got to play chess with my dad a few times, but it wasn't exactly the best of times. He's still my best friend, though.
The day before he was bound to go crazy forever (becoming an elder), he made a desperate attempt to get another adult in the house, so I wouldn't starve. If he could get this neighbor to marry him and make little brothers and sisters for me, then this man could serve me meals for the four days I'll still be a child.
It didn't work. My dad looked thrilled to become crazy.
Craziness suited him. He wasn't as stinky as he always was before.
He somehow made his way up to the elder cell. It wasn't finished yet, so he slept under a blanket of snow.
The first night of his senility was among the hardest. Despite our payments to The Company, they still thought we owed them something.
She took the crib, three chairs, and...
My father's chair. This was the blow that hurt most. We can't replace that chair; the supplies just aren't available.
So now I have a new chair. A cheaper one, less comfortable; fit for the world I'm born into.
Yeah, my life kind of sucks.
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