Intro

    It’s been four days since I’ve had food.  It’s been one since I’ve had water.  I don’t think Celie’s coming back.  It’s been far too long.
    I should really go out now.  I should go out, and find food and water.  But I’m scared. 
    I can hear them moaning outside.  I can hear the shuffle, shuffle of their feet.  I’ve never been alone for this long.  There has always been someone to help me.  After Mom died, Celie came out of nowhere with a shovel, hitting them on the head and shoving them out of the way and eventually getting us, both of us, safe to this place.
    I can smell them, and their moans haunt my dreams.
    I must have food.
    My hands are sweaty from me just thinking about what I must do.
    “Celie,” I whisper, and lie on my side holding my stomach.  But just like yesterday, and the day before, she doesn’t come.
    Celie left eight days ago to get more food and water.  Eight days to the end of the street and back.  I know what has happened to Celie, and I know she won’t be coming back.
    Who will protect me now?

    I twist the rubber bracelet on my wrist, trying to get up the courage to go outside.  Maybe I could go at night.  But no, that will just leave me more at their mercy.  The dark doesn’t affect their eyesight – it does affect mine.  Maybe I could maybe I could maybe I could…

    Okay, before I leave I’ll tell you my name.  It’s Delilah.  Okay, not really.  But now that no one’s here anymore – okay except for them – it doesn’t really matter, does it?   Delilah.  Man, the argument I would get from my Mom on that one.  Not that it’s biblical or anything.  I just like the sound of it.  Fancy and clean and mysterious.  Not at all like a dirty little Goth girl with a regular name.
    Don’t misunderstand.  I don’t dye my hair black and wear a ton of makeup and mope around.  I do wear some black makeup – I like my eyes lined ancient Egyptian style – and I really like black clothes (they’re so slimming – no really I’m skinny), and I like vampires, but other than that I’m not all depressed or suicidal or anything.
    My stomach’s growling like an anorexic girl’s.  I’d better go.  If you don’t hear from me again, just think of me one day.

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