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My name is Dante Reginold Atticus. Other wise known, as Silence. Tis a name that was given to me. Was really a name to mock my disability during school years, but then it stuck.
I've no clue what the date is. So anyone who finds this may not know what time frame. Only judging by how old this journal looks.
I was born in ninety seven, in a hospital in maryland. Though my child years were spent in the canadian islands. Good days.
I Suffer from glossophobia, basically the fear of speaking to people. I know. A very unreasonable fear, but. I simply can't help it.
And minor scopophobia. Which is the fear of being stared at, or being judged. Which is slightly a little more reasonable, but no entirely. Thus why I wear this mask. This mask I made from my father's old mask, and my mother's hat, which the only thing that survived from hers. Would be the feather pen she kept on it.
As you may have guessed. I'm a very eccentric person. People call me weird, creep, stalker, what have they. It doesn't bother me much. They're worried about being stared at while i'm freeing up their pocket space.
I've been travelling along side a group of survivors for a month or two now. A few of them accept me for who I am. While the rest would rather see me dead than want a helping hand from the likes of me. Dickheads.
I have two friends so far. One named Dottie. A short head strong woman, with nice legs. She understood how socially daft I am, but treated me like any other. All we did was talk, and I felt safer. Even spoke a few words for her. Then there's Hannah. Dottie's better half. She's just so cool. Saved my hide once. Kept my ass from being shot out of pure looks. I thank her for that. I should return the favour. Maybe If I sneak in, and sew all the holes on their clothing. Or maybe find them a stash of alcohal.
Then there was this police officer. Named. 'cash' I think. A weird name to call someone.
He's the one who really saved my bacon. Ethan, polonious, and that other twat. So narrow minded they are.
Anyways... Cash if you read this. I'm alive because you stood up to them. Thank you.
Well I better leave ethan's home before he wakes up to my face next to his. Heh.
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Goodness. I completely forgot. There's this little girl named Lucy. Or 'lulu'. One of the few survivors who don't actually look at me, and give that wry look.
She knows sign language. Which is a plus. Someone to talk shit with.
This morning I've stumbled across a snare. It even held a trapped rabbit. Boy was I happy to bag that thing. Best meal I've had in a couple months.
Sorry who's ever snare that was.
Gimme da juice boss.