July15,
304, Shreeji apt,
Baroda,
I don’t know whether you would be reading this, while I am living or in the living memory of me. I am not sure how by far I can resist. But I do know one thing; I would rather have a hole in my head with a strong lethal gun, than be caught by them. I have food items available which could sustain me for some two months, municipal taps for water and my silence for solace. Survival doesn’t have many requirements. I know what you would think if you were in my place, what the use of eking out life is, when you are enclose two bed room kitchen, with non recurring electricity, though I keep it shut for most of time, surrounded by a heap of ammunition, from short range darts, to long range snipers. But you aren’t in my place. I am. It sends me to chills even if I had to peek out of through the door. My door is firmly closed, from all the resident evils outside; I won’t even open a door for someone who asks for help. I won’t give help even to someone who is in mortal danger. I am selfish, for my life of course. I won’t help you even if you are preyed by thousands of those vampire-cum-aliens. My brother, whom I taught how to ride a bicycle when he was small is out there thirsty of my blood and mind. You don’t even ask what I have lost. Except of this pigeon hole, I have lost everything. My mother, my mother, my eight paternal uncles and their eight wives and 15 children, my two maternal uncle, their two wives and four children, my own brother, my both grandfather and grand mother, my first grade teacher, my physics tuition teacher, my second gf. I don’t care about them anymore, nor do I care for anybody else. I am extremely ruthless, even if outside there was the most beautiful girl wailing for her life to the most pitiable situation of a toddler, scared for his miniscule life, I am not going to help them.
I pass my day in extreme dread as the vampires would be crawling restlessly searching for some easy meal, my days pass in constant frigid anticipation, as I fear every next gust of air or a long distant hoarse cry to be of some acrid, blood reeking, psycho pathetic monster who lusts for my body. My nights are passed motionless, continuously pestered by mosquitoes that seem to have taken advantage of my not burning even a mosquito mat in the fear that the small beam of light would be enough for the monsters to do the job on me. I don’t bath, I don’ brush, I don’t eat crunchy food, I hardly make a sound. I am practically a one handed teenager. My left hand never leaves the gun, even during the sleep, while my right hand performs all the tasks that are necessary to be performed.
So let me begin at the beginning, as for when it all started for me. One fine winter afternoon, my brother came with a mark on his neck from his school, and hunger in his brain. Somehow that animal that gobbled down my poor dear brother’s brain managed to get our own address, and he simply, directly and lucidly attacked my mother, just like that! I just gaped at him in horror; he smiled at me with those bloody teeth. Mom soon became incoherent. I felt instinctively that in not more than two days she would forget that she ever had a son named Ronak. I must tell you the truth that it was then I discovered that I was the worst coward ever. I ran, without warning anybody that I had full blown vampires out of my brother and mother, I ran not knowing where I was going. That was when father must have been injected by them.
Yah I am pretty sure, that it must be around that time only. Because then they suddenly decided to give a surprise visit to my favourite uncle at whose place I was staying. These monsters have funny ways of preying, they prey on those once loved most by them, hell plus they are super intelligent. My uncle, inspite of the bulky size, and a large gun was overpowered by an emotion similar to love for his brother who looked extremely ravenous for his blood. I think I was not loved by any of them much, because they simply ignored me. The only person who can never ever ignore me was my brother, and he ran directly after me.
I was extremely terrified. There I was running on the highway just after mid night with my little brother hounding me. I remembered that smile he had on his face. How could I forget that one? Some four years from that day he entered my room, highly afraid of me, telling me in trembling voice that he had broken my super costly and super loved cricket bat, he then gave a weak smile, because he knew the impending doom. I beat him till blood poured from his nose. My mother was very angry. My father didn’t speak with me for one whole month. And I felt guilty as hell for that incident. Now here was my brother, with that same smile coming after me, it seemed to take revenge.
“Bhaiya, please don’t beat me like that, please I am sorry, please, I would do anything for you, please, oh please don’t beat me.” He cried in the same voice.
I stopped dead in my track. My heart beat faster than anything that it had ever handled. I turned around. How the hell could I not respond to that pitiable cry? I wanted to change that incident a thousand times over. I cried, till he overpowered me and was about to sink his green teeth deep into my throat.
It was then my sense of survival reawakened, I beat my brother again that day, this time to save my own ass. He was of course not that strong, no vampire is as they use human bodies, what they use is cheap trickery, as to what my brother was playing on me or my father on his brother. I ran leaving him bloody on the floor.
I have been hiding since then till date. I think night is coming; I won’t be able to write anymore. Please hope that I would be able to see tomorrow’s day. It was figure of speech, I definitely cannot allow sunlight to enter, and I keep every window covered.
Till then, Jagte raho (Keep awake).
Alienman 
lol