Get Your Ass To Mars

I felt the heat savagely assault my skin, smelled the singe of it burning, before my arm turned into crocodile leather.

I screamed so loudly my baby started beating me in the face, until his nose started to melt, into his face. He kind of swallowed his scream. So did I.

The survivors took to the road. We walked aimlessly down dark, once lively, tree lined streets, full of families and laughter.

I love horror films, but I never wanted to be a part of one. This is the diary of a world gone mad, by a woman, soon to go mad.

“Run,” I could hear people behind me screaming. “Hurry!” I couldn’t think straight. I ran anyway, holding onto my baby for dear life. After the plandemic, after the giants, aliens, all manner of crap, we thought we were safe. I later realized, these are the thoughts of sheeple.

On a frigid, climate changed summer night, the sky lit up bright orange like it was on fire, around a quarter to ten. There was a screeching noise that I had never heard before, deafening almost. One I hope I never hear again.

Whatever that noise was, it killed Lucy, my cat. She was fine before. I put her limp body in a black trash bag and stuck it in the garbage pail. The next day it was not there. I think my neighbors ate her. Their food always smelled strange to me, cooking. Now, I know why.

The human race is tragically trying to remain human. We have become savages, lately, survival of the fittest, warriors. The weak are preyed upon as food for the giants. You keep moving, or die where you stand. The ships to Mars are our only hope.

Our leader on the road, we call him Mud, because he said that’s what he is made of, rare earth. A nature loving fool. Sleeps right on the ground. His leg looks like my arm.

Except, his is festering. Guess we’ll need a new leader soon.

I’m better off than the people I see dead on the road, though, torn apart by the giants, half eaten by dogs, or even worse, their own families.

I had just gotten over corona (the beer bug) as we call it, five months ago, now this. I’m walking to Florida from Virginia, almost in North Carolina, now. My family will be waiting for us when we get there. I hope Florida is still there when we get there. That’s where the ships are.

A girl tapped me on my shoulder as she walked past. She pointed to my feet. I couldn’t see them from the blood. They were still there though, still pounding the pavement and that’s all that mattered.

Water trucks going to checkpoints, can’t stop death from happening. Last checkpoint was out of food. I heard some people caught the runs from the rain water they drank. That day, I drank warm piss, instead. A passerby had warned me.

I am so hungry I could eat dirt, but I saved a couple of dandelions and a tea bag. Better than dirt. Dandelions and crackers sound good. I have a ketchup packet from home. Yes, I am very thankful. There is still milk in my breasts.

Twenty one miles to North Carolina. I should be there by tomorrow. I will find a pawn shop and sell my heart shaped locket that grandma gave me, or not.

When they bombed D.C., all I could grab was a few things. We had minutes before we had to evacuate. They said it was Russia. Could have been North Korea, North Carolina, who knows.

I just know nothing will ever be the same again, ever. I’m okay with that. As long as things are better than before the giant aliens came. These aliens ain’t no joke. We move mainly during the day because they are nocturnal, most of them, anyways.

There are different species. The giants are the worst because we can see them coming, but they move so fast we can’t run from them. They snatch us up for snacks.

We think they are working with our governments to destroy us. Maybe, the governments are being manipulated by them. We can only guess.

Our only objective is to survive this madness. They stole my peace and I’d like it back, after I put my foot up their alien asses.

If we’re not wanted on this planet then fine, I’ll leave. I will go live on Mars, if the government wants me to. I will get my ass to Mars, as Arnold said in “Total Recall”.

“Get your ass to Mars, get your ass to Mars.” I always thought that was so funny and now, here I am, doing it.

Elon Musk was a distraction. Just like in the movie, “2012”, governments of the world were already building the ships in Antarctica, that’s why no one could go down there. They knew what was going to happen.

There was no lottery, like in the movie with Morgan Freeman, the name of the film escapes me right now. I remember when I could ask Siri this, or any damn question. I miss her, Facebook, Netflix and Subway.

All the money I spent on my nails and hair, now we are all dressed like bad Halloween costumes. I’m wearing things I wouldn’t wear alone in the dark.

Determination is the mother of necessity. At this very moment, getting to Mars comes second to breathing. My son’s future rests on the red planet. I must stay focused. Yes, get your ass to Mars, Preneatha.

Some of these creatures are at least 30ft tall, at least. They smell like vomit, that’s how we know they’re near. Downwind, Mud can smell them for a half a mile.

One climbed to the top of the Dominion Towers building in Roanoke, Virginia. It was a sight to see, reminiscent of King Kong.

We usually eat whatever we find that’s edible. Not in front of anyone or they may steal it right out of your hand. Every time I take a bite of food, I cough. Then, I pull up my mask so no one sees me chewing.

There is an art to eating, when you can easily become the food. I saw Mud eating dirt one day. He said he was raised on red clay. I tried it. It doesn’t taste too bad. I became a red clay eating fool, until it was gone.

I don’t know why I keep talking about the skeletons. I am not a cannibal, just starving. The thought never crossed my mind, really. When my baby wakes, he will be hungry, too

I will stay here on earth and eat fried alien hearts if I have to. That’s how much I hate them. They have destroyed most of earth, what man hasn’t. I can’t wait to see what Mars looks like, before man destroys it, too.

Doesn’t look like we’re winning this war, if that’s what you want to call it. If we are winning there should be a sign. Its an anihilation. They can’t just be here for food. I just think we taste good to them. They make soothing sounds when they eat us and smack their lips.

We put five heffèrs in a field one time for a giant to eat. He kicked the heffers as far as a football field. Then, he chased down the farmer that left them, before he could get away. He ate the farmer, then later, came back for the heffers and ate them too.

When the giant spit out a leg bone, it hit someone in the head and killed them. I can’t make this stuff up. I saw it with my own eyes.

Someone up ahead has found a cave. They are motioning for people to come. We’re on our way. I need to stand by the fire. My baby is freezing.

Some people still have their dogs with them. Mud says we will eat them for breakfast. He is digging a hole in the ground to cook this raging pit bull, in particular. Everyone is afraid of him.

Mud said they are mostly muscle, like eating a tough steak. I can tell he’s done this before. If we cook them in the ground with hot rocks, the giants can’t smell them cooking. They eat dogs too.

As some of the men tried to wrestle the dog from it’s owner, the tall man got stabbed. He died.

The pit tasted good with a little salt. I can’t believe I said that. I can’t believe I ate it. Wish I had some more. I’m still hungry. I must rest now. I am so sleepy.

We left the cave at the first light of day. I grabbed my baby up without feeding him. My nipples are leaking. I need some privacy so I don’t waste it.

There are hundreds of us. More people came during the night. Ten miles to North Carolina. My arm is beginning to fester now. Not good.

Mud is not as chipper today. We are all tired. Don’t know how much longer we can keep up this pace. Someone was playing music. Mud and his men confiscated the batteries.

Preserve all resources he said.

Everyone fights all the time, about every little thing. I’m over it already.

Done.

The line to get into North Carolina stretches for two miles.

Mud didn’t make it.

“Your name ma’am?” “Huh?” I am having problems thinking again. “Preneatha.” “Okay, here’s one ticket for you, but the dead baby has to go in that pile over there!” “What?” “No dead allowed inside the perimeter, ma’am.”

She steps out of line.

“Quick, quick, grab that book! I need to write something down.” “I’m not grabbing anything out of a dead woman’s hands holding a half eaten baby. That’s bad luck.” The woman goes and grabs the book out of Preneatha’s dead, stiff hands.

“Looks like she was writing a diary. Guess this is where it ends.”