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Shia’s Log: Day 12 Lyrics by Timothy Alan

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Day 12. November 3, 2012. 3:13 am.
Dana isn’t with us anymore. I’m giving the illusion of calm and still right now, but I can feel my whole body shaking. I’m the worst person to ever walk this earth, aren’t I? You don’t have to answer… I know I am. I was told that humans are selfish in nature. I was told that we all have a remnant of animal instinct left in us and that we’d do unthinkable, horrible things if that’s what it took to survive. Whatever it takes. No exceptions to the rule. I did an unthinkable thing. Something I hope I never have to do again as long as I live. Before you judge me, before you label me as a devil or as heartless and inhumane, just know this: I did what it took to survive. Because I’m human.
I tried to be civilized. I didn’t have too many choices. I told myself that I was doing the right thing. So many times. I was rationalizing, trying to determine the right course of action to take. I only had so many choices, and they all didn’t end well. So I picked what I thought was the most ideal. I picked the lesser of two evils. I thought this through to the last detail. Nothing would be done sloppy. Let the record show that I’m not a murderer… I’m a human.
It was around 11:00 or so when I found the plastic bag by the counter. It was around 11:05 when I finally worked up the nerve to put the bag over Dana’s sleeping head. After a few seconds she woke up in a fright, flailing her arms and legs in panic. I held her body down and tried my best to shush her screams. My brother sleeps like a log. I knew he wouldn’t hear anything. And her struggling would use the little air she had, which would end this a lot sooner. My brain kept screaming, “SHIA, STOP THIS! YOU AREN’T THIS PERSON! YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS!” Despite its cries of mercy, I never once thought of removing the plastic from her nose and mouth. “This is the right thing. Letting them outside would be more gruesome. Letting the Thy-Trips sink their teeth into my brother’s still alive body is unacceptable.” I told my mind this over and over, and it eventually stopped protesting. Dana’s body stopped protesting, too. I removed the bag. I wish I hadn’t. I shouldn’t have. Those green eyes, seemingly powerful enough to look into the soul of a person, were wide and lifeless. I checked her pulse to make sure it was over. There wasn’t one. God forgive me. There’s a walk-in freezer in the kitchen that we used to keep some of the milk fresh for as long as possible, and after almost emptying my stomach a few times and steadying my trembling body, I picked her up and put her in there. I ran my hand gently over her face and closed her eyes for her. It was a sickening feeling knowing that they’d never open again, but she’s at peace now. She won't have to choose between survival and betrayal anymore. I thought of giving her a proper burial outside, but it’d take too long and bring too much attention, and I didn’t want the smell of decaying flesh to attract the Thy-Trips to our location. When Elliot wakes up, I’ll tell him she left. I’ll tell him that she snuck out while we were sleeping and stole our food. I’ll tell him whatever hurts him less…
I hope you don’t think any less of me. I did what I had to do. I did whatever it took because I’m human. But why… why don’t I feel like it anymore?
Shia.

About “Shia’s Log: Day 12” by Timothy Alan

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