Shelter Log: November 15th- 18:20 P.S.T- 2020

Log Start- It's been so long since the light of the Sun has reached my window. Only recently was I freed from my makeshift cocoon. The spiders and flies seem to have taken hold of my only companion [REDACTED]. They seemed to live well sheltered in place, but it seems they could only hold out for so long before they succumbed to malnourishment. Even though it seems my body has undergone changes, for which I am unsure of the catalyst, notably ut seems I have become covered in a protoplasm by some new dysplasia. The cocoon, I believe, was the better choice, however. It allowed me to survive in this dystopia thus far but it seems its functions have run dry. Food ran out long ago, and protocol suggests I got to the market, online or otherwise. I'm too afraid to try and fix the T.V only to find the broadcasting to still talk of plagues and malicious men in power. Even as I try to remember the antecedent, I cannot recall the event. The Sun's light hurts... I may have to venture out into the real world, but I can’t remember what happened to my protective equipment. I hear footsteps outside. I'm hoping it's my apartment's janitor Mr.[REDACTED]. I'll do my best to prepare the necessary precautions in the eventuality of the infected though.