Today we scavenged through my old house... I found the corpse of my little brother. He looked dead, but I couldn't take any chances... I had to club him in the head. I'm sure it was far more painful for me than it was for him. Me and the rest of the foragers dug through all my old stuff- drawings, journals, books, movies... basically everything in my room. We didn't find anything useful there, but I grabbed a small family photo album... something to help me remember life before the infection. We had more success when we were rummaging around upstairs- we found some canned and boxed foods in my old pantry and my dad's chainsaw, along with a whole bunch of his tools. When we were in the garage we found a couple of bikes, a bunch of my old gold clubs, and... the rest of my family. They were in the car along with our neighbors... they must have been trying to escape when the infection hit. I could barely see out from behind my gas mask through all the tears. We left in a hurry when my dad jerked up his head and stared at me with those cold, dead, zombie eyes... I couldn't take it anymore. We're going to take a break from foraging for a while and make camp somewhere safer... somewhere in the 3 acres of woods my family owned. Luckily for all those reading this, we caught the whole thing on my old video camera. I, however, don't plan on watching it... I don't think I could.