Monica Phillipson

Audio Journals

Unknown Speaker	Monica Phillipson	Pvt. Ellis Green	Sammy Marie	Ben Winston	Brandon O'Reily

Monica Phillipson Journal 1 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: I just want someone to know I was here, I guess. If you can hear this, that means you survived. I don't know if I'm going to be that lucky. At this point, I don't know if anyone will be that lucky. Maybe only the rats and the crows will make it. Maybe that's our new world, after all. You reap what you sow, they say. Only a matter of time before something like this happened. Anyway, I was here. That's what this is about. And I want someone to hear it, even if it is just a bird perched on a roof, pecking away at an old cell phone. I was here, you bastards, I was here.
Monica Phillipson Journal 2 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: Yeah, things have not been good lately... That's a bit of an understatement. I never liked to be negative, but... there aren't a lot of options, emotion-wise, at the moment. My name is Monica Ariel Phillipson. Somebody at least write it down somewhere, okay? I'm not sure I'm gonna make it... my roommate died right at the beginning, then Daryl. Daryl was my boyfriend. And then my best friend, Janie. Then the cellular network went down, and... and things went dark, and... that's when things actually got bad.
Monica Phillipson Journal 3 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: I don't know why I started thinking about this today, but you know what I miss? And I swear to god, I never thought I'd say it. I miss traffic. It's so quiet now. You hear the occasional shouting, feet sometimes - usually running. Every so often you hear shooting or a car alarm. Crying, sometimes. But it's all so random and sudden and isolated. Traffic was continuous. Traffic meant people. It meant... life. People doing things, going places. Traffic meant purpose. Maybe not a purpose I would have had, but still, purpose. That's gone now.
Monica Phillipson Journal 4 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: Things might be looking up. I met some people this morning. At first I only saw a couple of guys, so I hid. I don't need those kind of problems, if you know what I mean. But then I guess one of them was a girl, just bundled up so much you couldn't even tell. She saw me duck down and she came and found me. Freaked me right out. But she was okay, even... nice. You don't see that much anymore. Trust me. She invited me to come along. And there's safety in numbers, so let's just see what happens.
Monica Phillipson Journal 5 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: So far Mary and Case seem all right. I mean, they're alive, which is more than I can say for anyone else I know. Number one criteria for friendship these days - being alive. Shitty standard, right? Still, they have some crazy ideas. Like going into the underground to live. Like, the sewers and subways. They say there's too many gangs up here, too many predators. And they're not wrong. They got a stash of food they say we can leave up here and collect from every now and then. Supply runs. They're convinced it's they way to go, and they're the ones with the food. Not to mention, without them I have no one. So, I guess we're going under.
Monica Phillipson Journal 6 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: It's okay down here. It's not exactly warm, but it's warmer. I guess Mary used to be homeless like five years ago, so she knows her way around - sort of. She used to spend time in a little camp down here. We even went by, to see if maybe anyone there made it. But when we got there all we found is ash. Literally. You could tell from the shapes those had been people. I just hope to god they were already dead, and those fucking Cleaners didn't do this to a bunch of sleeping homeless people.
Monica Phillipson Journal 7 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: Had kind of a close brush today. We're not alone down here, obviously. Other people are hiding in here, but some of those gangs and maybe that militia group are using it to move around and stay under the radar. And there's not a lot of places to run down here. Fortunately, we heard them before they spotted us, and we ducked into an alcove. But shit, that was close. Rikers passed three feet from me, didn't know I was there. What would've happened if one of us had to sneeze or something? I mean, I haven't had to kill anyone... yet. Not with my own hands. Not yet.
Monica Phillipson Journal 8 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: Haven't run into anyone for a few days now, friendlies or not. There's a hell of a lot of tunnels down here, so I guess you just don't run into people so much. Which is a good thing. It's quieter than up top, sure. And it's also... really boring. And dark. And wet. We've told each other our life stories, and kind of seems like we've been through everything there is to say already. We're quiet mostly, now. Maybe this is just the beginning. The beginning of what, though, I'm not exactly sure.
Monica Phillipson Journal 9 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: So. We've killed a couple more days. In the silence, and the dark. And... I just don't know about this. These guys are great. I mean, it's probably their fault I'm still alive. But they just want to stay here. And sit, and wait, and see if civilization comes back. See if anyone comes to rescue them. In the dark, with the stink. Trying to decide what to do. And it's nice to feel safer, but this, this is not living. It's true we could die up there, but... if this is the alternative... I just don't know.
Monica Phillipson Journal 10 Underground	MONICA PHILLIPSON: Alone again. Not too sure I made the right decision. Odds have got to be better in groups, but... it was so dark down there. It smelled. And the walls on all sides. I just can't live like that. Like a snail, tucked into its shell. But you know what? The sun is out today, like an old friend telling me I've done the right thing. Sat in it for like an hour. Might even get a sunburn. If I don't have much time anyway, I might as well be living it like that. And who knows? Maybe someday, I'll even hear traffic again.