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Hester M. Nagle
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  • harlans11th@livejournal.com
I live in Cleveland, the CZ.
Right about now, I'm wishing it were otherwise.

Got through 3 years of Pre-Med before this happened.
Before that, I was a Communications major.
Now, I live in Cleveland, the CZ.

Am I a bandit or a soldier?
I havn't followed an order in a month.
They keep giving me bullets.
Am I a soldier or a bandit?

I've been hungry enough to take food from a kid.
I believe in karma. Things don't look good.

You see,
I live in Cleveland. I live in the CZ.

Correction. I lived in the CZ. Now they arn't containing anything. But it doesn't feel right to call it Cleveland. Maybe its just the city closest to The Pitt. Maybe I could call it the Cleveland Urban Concentration Center. It used to be Fed territory, but now? I can't even guess.

I live in Cleveland. The city might have been broken, but we are rebuilding it. Things are a strange aggragate of the Dark Ages and the 20th Century, and we are the knights on horse back with millitary grade weapons. We have opened up a school, a clinic, and we show movies where all are welcome. This might not be civilization, but it is the next best thing.

It all went sour, of course. I guess anyone could have seen that coming, but for some reason I didn't. Life has changed, again, and for the worse. I don't live in the CZ anymore.

I guess I went crazy for a little while when everyone was dying. So I blew town, moved on, in the grand tradition of men who run away from their problems. I guess you could romanticize it by saying it was like a cowboy riding into the sunset, but that would be complete bull. I ran south, ran into trouble, ran west, and ended up here in what was once Utah and now is a nameless plain. I've still got my gun and my guilt, but hopefully I'll make a better place for myself than in the CZ.

I live in a compound of two, myself and my mongerel buddy, Maggie. My occasional personal interaction comes from drifters passing through. Owning lots of guns and keeping them around at all times makes sure that they stay drifters instead of bandits. I am getting pretty desperate for female attention, though, and have started thinking of going abroad briefly to find another settlement, but everytime I decide to, I get paranoid about leaving my home undefended. In the past couple of months or so I have read every text book I could scavage from the ghost town I'm near, trying to improve my quality of life. My electricity is self-sufficient, but spotty on account of all the dust in the atmosphere.

I think I'm almost recovered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, but you can't trust self-diagnosis.

I've called the town Willowick, after the burg I grew up in. People live here now, and I am filled with confusion. They keep joking that I'm the town's sheriff, and I guess that since I have the best guns, I actually am. I am already regretting getting into a leadership role, since history shows I do poorly in that position, but just fine as a lone-wolf. Can I even afford to day-dream about someone coming to save me? I guess I'll have to save myself. I just hope I don't get everyone else killed in the process. Also, I'm a little bit heart-broken, I found out.
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