Isaac Glashkinov's Journal

Started by ieatclowns, 03-03-2010

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ieatclowns

Hello, there. This is a journal-type thing I am going to write for one of my characters. I?ll update it every now and again, but please leave some comments below each post.Hope you guys like it, and see you on the server. (Where you can meet the main character :P )


These are my notes, scrawled crudely in the night, on torn parchments of old paper. I am Isaac Glashkinov, and this is my story, until now, of how, why and when I came to the zone, and of the things that happened therein.

Entry One- Tuesday
6.00 PM
I woke up early this morning. I arose to the sound of rain. It wasn?t that warm, muggy rain, it was cold rain. Freezing. Cold. Rain. I sat up in my bed. It had been raining without cease for at least four months, and it didn?t look like it would clear up any time soon. Where all this moisture came from I just don?t know, but I refused to stop.

Day after day, the newspaper (sogging wet as it was.) depicted scenes of horrible destruction and decay hanging over Chernobyl and neighbouring areas. Pripyat was one of them. I used to live there, and was luckily away at the time of the incident. However my wife and son weren?t. Unbelievably, though, they both escaped unscathed. Or so we thought until last week when my wife passed away from a highly active tumour caused by nuclear fallout. Now it is just me and my son, holding on to what we can of life, waiting for it all to return to normal, if there even is a normal anymore.
This morning we went for a jog, but the smog in the air was so thick it had us both in a coughing fit, so we hurried home. Everything tasted stale after our unproductive attempt at exercise. It was like all our food had been burnt and dried.

Most people have fled the towns nearby, so the only people left are those desperate to make a living, or the homeless. But the numbers are rapidly becoming less and less after some adverts from tradesman advertising ?bounty-hunting ? style jobs in what they call ?The Zone?, one of the most heavily affected areas as far as nuclear radiation goes. It?s a high-paying, yet high-risk job.

I could do with a job about now, my money is running thin, and the boy is at that age when eating is a never ending hobby. Tomorrow I will go out and see if I can get some work at the corner shop down the road. 
Entry Two- Wednesday
6:07 PM
I stopped by the corner shop today, and handed in what I only hoped could pass as a r?sum?. The kind little man took it, then shook his head. ?Take this.? He said, pulling a flyer off the wall and handing it to me. ?Earn Heaps, Live Life on The Edge!? it said. It was yet another advertisement for work in the zone. I nodded and mouthed something along the lines of thank you, and left.

The boy and I decided to sit inside rather than braving the rain today. We pulled out an old board game and played it for a while. I can?t remember the last time I ever played a board game, but I?m glad I got to share that experience with my last remaining family member.

Today I cooked something of sustenance. It took me a good four hours, but it was the first thing in a while that didn't take a lot like burnt paper. I cooked a honey soy roast. It was delicious to eat, but even more of a joy to make, seeing as the boy helped me.

I promised him that on Saturday morning, we'd make pancakes, and he smiled like never before.

The rain is easing slightly, I think, but I doubt it will fully stop for a little while to come.

The night is dying, so I should hit the sack.

Entry Three- Thursday
5:58 PM
There was news today of a mutated dog discovered by ecologists in 'The Zone'. Apparently it's fur was torn and in pieces, and it's flesh was showing in the parts that fur wasn't. The weirdest part is that the dog showed no signs of being attacked, and ecologists are saying that it might be a cause of radioactivity.

Today the boy wanted to go bike riding. I reminded him of our jog a few days back, but he insisted we venture out once again.

The air was, once again, repulsive. But I knew the boy wanted this, so I didn't say anything. We both coughed uncontrollably as we peddled along the almost empty houses and shops in the area. "Daddy, where did all the people go?" asked the boy as we were on our way back. "There was a, uhm.." I hesitated. I didn't want to scare the boy, though I was sure the TV had already done that.  "..they went for a holiday, and decided they didn't want to come back." Surprisingly, that was the only answer the boy needed, he smile in understanding the rest of the trip, looking up and down all the buildings. "Did Mom go on a holiday?" asked the boy. "Yes, son. Yes she did."

Entry Four- Friday
6:12 PM
The boy woke me up this morning in a wave of excitement. "Pancakes, Dad, it's pancake day!" I got up as fast as I could and picked up my discarded watch. "Son, it's only Friday. I said Saturday." The boy looked at me with wide eyes, dropped his arms and head down and walked away. I shouted after him; "I haven't bought the mix yet! I'll buy it today, and I'll buy lots!"

The whole day he was jumping up and down, he couldn't wait for his delicious pancakes.

I found the flyer from a few days ago in my jacket pocket. I read it briefly, then scrunched it up and threw it onto the ground. I wasn't putting myself or the boy through that. Oh, the things he'd have to see. Oh, the questions he'd ask. No, I was quite happy right here, and in fact I was thinking of moving to England.

The boy nodded off on the couch around midday, so I took it as my opportunity to go down to the shop.

The door was wide open, so I walked straight in. "Vladimir! You there?" I called, as I searched for him down the isles. It was then that I saw a note on the staff room door.

::Hello, customer. I have decided that this place is no longer for me. I have changed my identity to escape this debt, so feel free to take what you will. So long, and good luck my friends.::
I stepped back, and nearly tripped over a fallen can. It was then that my eyes took in the store around me. When I was searching for Vlad, I didn't see that the shop had been ransacked. I took three bottles of pancake mix, plenty of food and drink, and crossed my sfingers that there would be some money in the till. Nothing. I rushed out and hurried home.

The boy was awake, and he was crying. "Oh, what's wrong my son?" I said as I put down the food and went to comfort him. "I thought you went on a holiday without me and I was scared, Daddy." He sobbed. "Oh, no. I would never do that, don't worry son." As the boy cried, he coughed a little bit here and there. That was the last time we would bike ride in this weather, I decided.

"Are we still having pancakes tomorrow, Daddy?" asked the boy as I tucked him into bed. I sat on my bed and brushed his hair aside. "Of course we will, and plenty of them. I went and bought three whole bottles." The boys eyes lit up. "G'night, Daddy." "Goodnight son".

Entry Five- Saturday, nearly Sunday.
11:39 PM
I made the pancakes at roughly seven in the morning. I was surprised that I didn't get woken early by the boy, so I got up and began to cook. He didn't wake up for a long time, so I went and checked on him.

There, lying in his bed asleep, was the boy. I chuckled. He mustn't have gotten to sleep for a long time, excited about the pancakes I guessed. I walked up to him and set beside him on the bed. "I've made those pancakes you wanted." I whispered. I put my hand to his head. "Come on, wake up, before the pancakes go cold." I laughed. I moved my hand slowly down to the underneath of his chin. "Son.." I said. I felt for his pulse. "Son..?" I began to panic. I could feel nothing. "Son!?.. Son! ... son? Please, those pancakes," I sobbed, "..they're ready." I fought back the tears, but I couldn't I was crying for him and his mother, as I had not had a chance to mourn her death around the boy. "..boy, wake up, your pancakes are ready, get up. Get up! Get up, you ..get up.."

I packed my things, including the groceries, and put my bag at the door. I walked into the kitchen, collected up some pancakes onto a plate, engulfed them in maple syrup, and took the plate into the boys room. I set it down beside him on the bed, and stood back and waited for him to wake up. He wasn't going to. I leant down, kissed him on the forehead, and walked away.
I readied myself to leave in the morning, but I sat on the couch through the night, and I recon I'll stay there til the sun grows.
Entry Six- Sunday
7:15 PM
Before I left the house, my eye caught sight of a scrunched up piece of paper on the ground. 'Earn Heaps! Live Life on The Edge!'... I studied it for a good ten minutes. That was what I would do, I would become a so-called 'STALKER'.
The air was smoggier than ever, I was sure. Or maybe it was just the fact that I had never really stopped crying. In any case I found it hard to breathe. I walked down the road toward a bus stop, and sat there.
I must have been absurd, expecting a bus to come. But for some reason, somebody stopped. They wound down their window, and motioned for the back of the car. "Jump in. Where ya' headed?" he said. I looked sheepishly down at my sheet of paper, wet with tears, then I looked back in the direction of the house. I wiped the tears from my face. "The Zone."

Entry Seven- Monday
8:08 PM
Driving. That's all that has been happening today. The driver asked for food, "just a little bit", as payment he said. He said it would be a few days more like this, so I think I'll skip those entries. Oh, and the air-conditioning doesn't seem to filter out the smog...

Entry Eight- Wednesday, late
11:52 PM
We're here, in fact we have been for about three hours. It's very dark, so he told me I could spend the night in the car, but tomorrow morning he's off. I would write about how the place looks, but all that the headlights revealed were a few hills and trees.

Entry Nine- Thursday
6:08 PM
I am lucky to be writing here tonight. I guess I never thought about the dangers that could be lurking in a scavengers play land such as this.
I saw some men standing by an abandoned truck, so I walked up to them, and next thing I knew I was on the ground being mugged. Wasn't long, though, before another STALKER rushed in gun firing in the air and scared them away.

"Did they take anything?" he said. I looked in my bag. "Everything, save my diary and a loaf of bread." The man shook his head, and helped me to my feet. "Did they take any money?" he asked. I pulled roughly 300 rubles from my pocket. "Yeah, 'bout a grand." The STALKER shook his head again. "What's your name?" I said, dusting myself off. "Bah, names are useless in these parts, either that or dangerous. 'Sides, I don't want you talking about me to anyone. Just call me, uh, Bonesaw." "Ohkay, Bonesaw. I'm Isaac." He looked at me and chuckled. "You won't be for long if you go talking to people like that!" I was confused. "What do you mean?" "Well, in the zone, it's every man for himself if you're a STALKER. Only people YOU should be talking to are traders and maybe Duty.. if you're that way inclined." He laughed and laughed, and I wasn't sure if he'd ever stop.

Later, he led me down a tunnel filed in at the other end by rocks. Judging by the train wreck all about it I guessed it was once a tunnel over a train track. In the far end was an old metal barrel. We sat around it, and he lit a fire inside. "This place is normally relatively safe for you new STALKERS, unless of course it gets taken over by them annoying veterans." He grumbled. "..even though I am one." He began his laughing fit which I had about grown used to now. "You look tired, boy." He said, and told me to go to sleep. Before I did, I told him that I was going to write an entry in my journal.. and that I wasn't a kid.

Entry Ten- Friday
7:09 PM
Today Bonesaw took me on a stealthy tour of the known parts of the zone. From a safe way away, I witnessed bandits at work, military patrols and other STALKERs ravaging through the ever so fascinating junkyard. "That place is good for two things," said Bonesaw. "..finding stuff, and murders." And as he said that a single shot was fired and a STALKER on the junkyard collapsed.