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Summer 2017
A little over a year since the extermination.

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 COUPE, Sťbastien, Seb
Sťbastien Coupe
Posted: Jan 4 2012, 10:15 PM



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Group: ROGUE REFUGEE
Posts: 2
Member No.: 305
Joined: 4-January 12



sťbastien gaspard coupe
seb


rogue ē refugee ē twenty ē francisco lachowski



about.

the pages are very worn, but originally written on quality writing paper. They were unlined, written freehand in black ink. Half the letters were written in full French; the handwriting neat to begin with, but steadily deteriorating with every letter. The first lot have stamps on the envelopes, addresses and French and American postal service stamps. The other half, do not. The envelopes simply have the word Ďgrandmaí on the front. They are the heartfelt words of a then 19 year old college student, born in France but raised in the states. Most of the early ones are of little interest to the casual observer. They are of everyday life, the mundane and ordinary.

Dear GrandmŤre,

Are you well? How is grandfather? Uncle Armand? Mother thanks you for the fudge, she sends her love. I have started my second year of university. It is an exciting time! Iím choosing my major because I think Iím ready to focus on one thing for once. I think I like History. Father wants me to study engineering, but thatís not the life I want to live. I want to read; which is why I think I may minor if French Literature. Anyway, I am babbling again. Everything is pretty normal here. Life is good. I wish you were here. I worry about you now that youíre alone in the house. Write back soon!

Je t'aime toujours,

Sťbastien

--------------------------------

Dear GrandmŤre,

Bonne et heureuse annťe! I hope you are well! Iím sorry this is my first letter since your reply before Christmas, but I have been awfully busy! Thank you for the jumper by the way, Itíll keep me warm until spring is here.

Thereís been some talk about a new influenza going around. Iím not sure if French news is covering it much. Weíve been told not to worry though, theyíre just isolated cases. So I donít want you worrying either. Mother is insane, but sheís always been a hypochondriac. She doesnít trust the doctors here either. If she could fly to France for her doctorís appointments, I think she probably would. She doesnít like it here. But I do! This is my home! Iíve lived here all my life. I am an American. Anyway, I look forward to your reply! I go back to school on the 9th, so I better get studying!

Je t'aime toujours,

Sťbastien

--------------------------------

Dear GrandmŤre, This sickness is much worse than I thought. Many people are ill, theyíre even dying. Father doesnít know what to do. Itís all over the place. People have been talking about a vaccine, but doctors say it wouldnít work. Something to do with mutations or something. I donít understand it, Iím not a scientist.

Nobody I know is sick yet, it hasnít hit us this far north of New York City. But itís all over the news; itís all they can talk about. Mother is beside herself. Sometimes sheís in hysterics. Sheís talking about the end of the world. Iím sure sheís overreacting. Weíll have to see.

Je t'aime toujours,

Sťbastien

--------------------------------

Dear GrandmŤre,

Donít be so silly! Calm down GrandmŤre, weíre fine and weíre not sick yet. But it has reached us. A lot of people are not coming to lectures anymore Theyíre all ill with this flu. I still donít know what to do. Father wants to leave, but not as much as mother does. She doesnít leave the house anymore. She doesnít even answer the door. She doesnít want to die. Neither do I. Father said heís going to try and arrange for three tickets on a plane to France, but Iím not sure how easy thatís going to be. A lot of people are having the same idea, and flights are very overbooked. I overheard him say that one ticket is enough, if thatís all he can get. Iím not going on my own though. I donít want to!

Iíll keep you informed of how things progress. Iím sure weíll be fine. Have faith.

Je t'aime toujours,

Sťbastien

--------------------------------

Dear GrandmŤre,

Itís in Europe? Already? They feared it would spread. So many people in my history classes have died. So many students across the whole school have died. At first they started having memorials and silences. But that was before, when only a few were dying. It would be impossible to do that now, they barely have enough time in the day to burry everyone. The government is thinking of banning burials in favour of cremations. Thereís not a lot of space in the cemeteries, and not enough time to build more at the rate of the deaths. Pray for us GrandmŤre.

Je t'aime toujours,

Sťbastien

--------------------------------

Dear GrandmŤre,

There is a vaccine! They said it was impossible, but they were wrong! Mother is having none of it though, she wants to board up the house. I had my last day of university yesterday. The university is closing until this nightmare is over. My professor encouraged us all to get the vaccine. I plan to do so, as soon as itís possible. This may be the last letter I can get to you for a while. The postal service is starting to fall apart. I fear that before long we will lose contact completely. But do not lose hope, because I havenít! There is a vaccine, we are going to live! We send you all our love, and Iíll write again as soon I can. Give our love to family.

Je t'aime toujours,

Sťbastien

--------------------------------

The US postal system completely collapsed after this letter was sent across the Atlantic. Air travel was closed, also and the boarders were sealed tight. Another letter to his grandmother would have been impossible. But he writes on, nonetheless, even though he doesnít expect or even want her to ever read them. The language changes from French to English, and itís far less formal.

--------------------------------

Grandma,

Iím kind of glad that last letter was all happy and crap, because itís all over. Apparently Iím not an American. Apparently Iím a ĎFrenchieí, as the guard at the vaccination centre outside New York City told me. Apparently I donít need a vaccine, because apparently Iím not a human being. This is a pile of bull shit! Iím as American as the next guy.

I feel like I say this all the time, but I donít know what to do. Everyoneís going to live, and Iím going to die. People are going to forget about me. The world will keep turning and I will be nothing. Iím not going to be remembered. Iím only 19, I havenít done anything yet! Iím so angry. Iím scared. Mom is okay though. She thinks the vaccine is ďAmerican poison, American liesĒ. She doesnít know what sheís talking about!

I donít know why Iím even staying indoors like she tells me. What are we going to do? That virus is still out there. If we leave, weíll catch it. The whole world is going to go back to normal and weíre supposed to just stay inside and ignore it?

... Am I better off dead? Thatís no life.

Seb

--------------------------------

Grandma,

Dad left last week. He left the house and just went. He couldnít take it anymore. Heís dead. I know it. I can feel it. Radio and tv stations went out. This place has really gone to hell. For all I know, youíre dead too. I guess itís pretty useless writing to you then, not that I want you to read any of this. The letters of a dead man. Yeah, thatís fun.

I need a break from writing. Iíll probably carry on in a few weeks. Itís not like Iím writing for anyone, so I guess Iíll do whatever I want.

Seb

--------------------------------

Grandma,

Well, this was unexpected. We ran out of supplies, and mother had prepared a Ďsuití for going to the store. She had sown it out of rubber, with one of those masks that construction workers wear attached to it. There was no way I was going anywhere in that. I probably would have rather starved to death. She came back with loads of stuff, more than I had expected. She had only taken $20 with her. Apparently there was nobody alive out there. The streets were littered with the dead. The stores were empty. She could just go in and take whatever she wanted.

I guess that vaccine didnít work. I guess everyone just died. I wonder if there are others out there.

Seb

--------------------------------

Grandma,

Momís dead. The local stores were running low and they ran out way too quickly. There must be others out there, others who survived. She left for New York City. She said sheíd be gone for a day at the most; she took the car. Itís been a week since she left, and Iím starting to come to terms with it. I heard what sounded like thunder the same day she left. I got on top of the roof and saw the flames in the distance. New York City was burning. Maybe there was a huge gas leak. Maybe Mom died in it. Iím on my own now. Or, at the very least, Iíll always feel lonely.

Seb

--------------------------------

Grandma,

Iíve left the house; I canít take the memories anymore. First dad, then mom. I wonít let that happen to me. Iím going to live! Iím going to find others. Iím not going to be alone anymore! Wish me luck, grandma. I love you.

Seb

--------------------------------

The following letter was written on very different paper. It is of inferior quality.

--------------------------------

Grandma,

Itís been a year since I wrote to you. So much has happened. Iím sorry I stopped writing. I just didnít have the time and then I just forgot about it. Well itís that and the lack of a good pen and paper. Anyway, in the last letter I wrote to you I told you I was leaving the house and going far away. Well, I was successful. Iím in Nevada now, petty much on the other side of the country. I just kept going, kept moving. Iíve met lots of people while travelling from group to group. Thatís pretty much how Iíve survived. A lot of people carry guns now days. I donít. I donít even know how to use one. I have a small hunting knife but not much more than that. Itís useless against one of them... Those, walkers.

So much has changed. In the first few weeks after the cities were bombed. Oh yeah, I forgot, that Ďgas leakí wasnít a gas leak, somebody put bombs in there. Or maybe they dropped them from planes? I donít know. Iíve met people who were there and survived, and apparently it didnít look like a gas leak explosion to them. Anyway, basically after mom died and I left, I went off to find others. Things were still pretty normal at that point. I know it sounds strange, but those times were normal. It was when those things started coming back to life did things get really... I donít really want to talk about it. [the pen colour changes, a short time has passed] Itís their eyes. You look into them and all you see is... Well. Nothing. It fills me with this darkness.

Like I said, sometimes I travel in groups. Sometimes those groups have guns, and they protect us from them. But it doesnít work sometimes, and thatís when you have to run. First rule of survival, if you canít fight, you run. If you canít run, you hide. If you canít hide, you die. Simple as. I would suggest killing yourself before they get to you; itís not pretty when that happens.

Anyway, so I made my way to Nevada. I havenít been here too long. Pretty much just followed others around and ended up here after about a year. It wasnít like I had anywhere to go. I was just surviving. Sure I had a plan, I wanted to make everything normal again. But I gave up on that a long time ago. You canít change this mess. Itís all gone to hell now. I know the infection spread to Europe before the world ended, which probably means youíre dead right now. Iím sorry. I donít know why but Iím sorry. In a way Iím glad youíre dead. Iím glad Dadís dead, and Mom. If you died quickly then I know you didnít suffer. I know youíre okay now. Besides, this is all crap anyway. Iím surviving, but this isnít a world you wake up happy in. I donít think Iíve even felt happy since this happened. Itís my birthday today and I canít even feel happy. Itís just another day. I wouldnít have even noticed if It werenít for the clock radio I sized up in a store not too far from Vegas. It made me remember about those days. Do you remember the time you flew in from France, and you baked that huge chocolate cake for my birthday? And then you told me I could be anything and do anything? Why does it hurt when I remember that? [the pen changes colour again. Once more time has passed] I never know what day of the week it is. Sunday might as well be Tuesday now. Itís basically the same anyway. The walkers donít break for Godís day, so why should I?

This is turned into a bit of a vent to be honest with you. Iím treating it like it was my diary or something. I havenít written in so long that it actually feels good. Crossing the tís and dotting the iís. I miss it. You can see my handwriting has gone way down hill. But who gives a shit really? You know I keep forgetting youíre dead. [the colour of the text changes for the last time] Iím going to head out tomorrow, and when I do Iím never going to write to you again. I donít need to. Iím okay now. Before, I kept writing because it made me feel better. I felt closer to you. But itís been a year, and Iím okay now. Iím okay... Iíll be fine... Donít worry about me. Iím okay.

Seb



dan

See Edith =]
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R.U.T.H.
Posted: Jan 4 2012, 10:18 PM



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Joined: 17-March 10



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