Squeaky_Kittah

This was originally a delicious box of old scrap personal diaries that follow a stranger. Although as the further into the books I became, I had the urge in seeking the rest of it. 

Given this was a time of machines. I had my luck in finding the right souls. A sort of system has scanned, registered and submitted all data into some hidden storage database. 

Apparently 'any alterations were consult with administrator. All data from corresponding subjects was included among the scanned records, sometimes blended into the narrative. Makes for easier storage and reading flow.' I wasn't the only one who fell into the reading then. 

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Real Author (Kittah): 

This story is not a typical female lead novel, not a lot of romance but coping in a post apocalypse. Which I don't get why female lead novels have to have a element of romance. It starts out as a diary should but further on, things change. The world around was the one we know of now but this story is later set in the unknown future. At times it can feel like I am trying to write a horror novel, but that's not what it is. This really is just a bumpy journey of a female character. 

I must rewrite my disclaimer which is the author note of chapter one. This seems like it relevant to today with the global pandemic. However the inspiration is my personal experience during the swine flu outbreak in the UK around 2012 or 2013. The majority of this story is prewritten but I have been changing it since putting it online. 

And, yes story does spill over into the author notes. You will understand in the later chapters. It's a writer's choose.

May the odds be in your favor.

Dairies of a lost soul; Beyond Boundaries.

I had found courage to open hold wounds. I took up being a laboratory technician for the local hospital. Comparing and photographing cell samples for all sort of cases being brought in. 


I am the only one left. I wear my wedding rings still, so that no one will bother me. Pretty as I am, I have lost my wife to her own demons. No matter how hard it was to help her get through it. It was her last straw. I can't blame and I am not hurt by her choose. I tried to show her what she would miss out... it never got through to her enough. I have that sense of guilt and fault but then I am being to hard on myself. In a situation I could not have prevented anymore then what I knew of the time. I still love her and think of her always.


I found solace eventually in returning older habits. I got back to writing. Painting. Now I make glass items and wood carvings. 


I was happiest when taking out the sketch books of that honeymoons. I had a lot to drink with the shot glasses. I was not sad at all, relief was more a correct answer. Having stepped back from why I thought things and then analyzing what truths were comforting to think of. 


They are together and not suffering anymore. They are always watching over me. I have found my place and I am happy. They would be proud of the achievements I made in thier names. I can't not allow the pain of loss to be controlling of my life. Their memories live in me, I must paint them to make more people feel them close. 


My work life has been highly interesting. The research papers I made during the honeymoon has been the most helpful thing I have ever crossed. Questions and theories I made in the thesis had finally being answered. 


In a odd way, I was getting results by adapting what I was looking for in the hospital cell samples. I made sure to do my job first for what the hospital needed. I would in my spare time before ridding any cell trays have a look under again. I print off a few cell photos for research results. I hide them as that was a misuse of patient privacy. When I do get found out, I will be fired. 


I planned for that eventually happen. The art I have been making has sold high priced and a lot of savings from my lost family has naturally curved a way to keep up. I have always disliked money from the dead. But they would want me to be safe.


A December (last page) years after