You know, in some ways I wish she had just died. I hear her moaning and scratching at that damn door. I can’t bear to think of her as one of them. I haven’t dared to open the door and take a look.
My poor, poor sweetheart. I am so sorry. I worked out that it must have been the blood from the wine bottle that did it. So it actually was me that caused this to happen to my wife. I don’t know what to do now.
The scant food I pilfered from the neighbours is nearly out. There is no food, electricity, heating here. I have the corpse of my wife in the next room wanting to get out and chew on my bones, and not in a good way.
I’ve got to get out. Get away from here and find some place safe, with food, and preferably a hot shower. Find out what is going on with getting a cure for all this. See what I can do to help. Maybe the army has set up a safe camp some place. Perhaps I can give blood or something. Man, I feel so helpless.
I have to leave my wife behind. Hope she is safe until I can return with the cure. Maybe a syringe full of the magic potion that will bring her back to me. Oh please let there be a magic potion.