Songs from an Untamed Heart

Re-posted with thanks to crystal_rfox.

re-posted for those of you who do not have phantomdancer friended.

This rocks! As a music geek/singer this made me go *squee!*

Drove up to Yreka, CA on Wednesday with my Dad and siblings. Mom had an unchangeable flight out to Chicago for work on Friday, and so could not have Thanksgiving with us for the first time, well, ever. It was sad.

Thursday - Saturday Morning was mostly spent at my aunt and uncle's cattle ranch. They have an amazing small set-up. Their cows are natural - they are grass fed, have lots of room to roam, are well-taken care of, and only get antibiotics when the cows are sick, not as a preventative measure. It was neat to hear all of my uncle's stories about why he started the ranch, how he runs it, why he is a natural farmer vs. an organic farmer, and about things that have happened to him as he learned the trade.

Friday we went out to some forest land that a friend of my uncle owns to cut Christmas trees. It's kept mostly pristine, though parts of it are harvested for lumber in a (7-year?) cycle to pay for land tax and such. We cut trees, sat around a bonfire, talked, ate minestrone soup, and generally spent most of the daylight hours in the prettiest country-side you ever could have seen. Did I mention it was cold? Yeah, it was 65 degrees in the sun - maybe. Probably more like 50 degrees, which was warm compared to the evening's 15 degrees. I have a dead tree that will probably make it to my apartment sometime this week. Yea tree!

Got home late Saturday night.

Today I have (Inhales):( Mostly here to remind myself that I've done more than I think I have. )

borrowed from Satyr and Serendipity:

Pay It Forward : I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment here on my LJ. I don’t know what that gift will be yet, but you will receive it within 365 days of this post.

The only thing you have to do in return is "pay it forward" by making a similar agreement on your blog.

P.S. if you have already posted this Meme in your blog than you have to choose the next 3 people who responded to your original post and send them a handmade gift too. :P

If you live a long way away, you'll have to provide your mailing address, ok?

... because I need a break from writing my personal statement for a scholarship. (I can talk about myself a lot when it doesn't matter, but when it does, I'm never sure what to say...)

1. My username is _____ because ____.
2. My journal is titled ____ because ____.
3. My subtitle is ____ because ____.
4. My friends page is called ____ because ____.
5. My default userpic is ____ because ____.

1. My username is Battymaiden because it was my nickname when Matt and I would play Civilization or Heroes of Might and Magic. He was Nyarlathotep until I dubbed him the Brooding Hippie, and I was the Childlike Empress until I dubbed myself the Battymaiden. I kept it for this journal because I thought it fit my mental state after he died, and now I just think it fits my general outlook on life.

2. My journal is titled "Journal of a Batty Maiden" because I am not as rambly as I used to be and that's what this my journal is - a journal.

3. My subtitle is nothing because I can't come up with anything clever right now.

4. My friends page is called "Muttering in the Asylum" because we are *all* mad here.

5. My default userpic is the axelbird because it is the pictographical representation of my innermost me.

...

I'm feeling very childlike and silly today, as you can tell.

Please read this before reading this post.

This will be my last post. I don't know what will become of me, or of the human race. All I know is that it would be near pitch black outside, if the world weren't burning.

Things were quiet here until about two hours ago. That's when the zombies managed to breach the blockade at the tube. Thousands of them. I can only hope my parents weren't caught in the surge...

Our fortress here has held up so far, but I can hear them trying to push through. We're going to torch the place and get out the fire escape. That, too, has its risks. There are a lot of them outside. Women. Kids. The kids are the worst. Young faces with soulless eyes.

And all through the neighborhood, all you can hear is sirens, gunshots, and screaming. The screaming always gets cut off.

I've got a backpack and enough supplies to make it for a few days without having to scrounge. I can make it to the Stone Maze and ribbin if I don't sleep. From there I'll start looking for Bay Area survivers. Hopefully josh_summit and dearbhail will be among them.

It's funny. Remember how in grade school they'd ask you what you would save if there was a fire and you could only save one material posession? I used to say I'd save the blanket my great-grandmother knit me, but now... I'm taking my ring and a small photo album. It's all I can afford to carry. The blanket is far too heavy.

Shit, they've breached the downstairs blockade. Whoever reads this, whoever survives, know that you are not alone. There are others out there. We will survive. Don't lose hope. Find us. There is safety in numbers.

The Bay Area burns tonight. That's partly ribbin's fault. And now it will be partially mine.

Please click here before continuing to read this post.

The emergency sirens blared on the island. Jen quickly turned off the television and turned on the emergency station, AM 1290. The repeating broadcast, which is still looping for all to hear, runs like this:

This is a message from the Alameda Emergency Broadcast System. This is *not* a test. I repeat, this is *not* a test. Reports of animated corpses attacking living persons have been confirmed on the island. This is *not* a hoax. Authorities ask that all living persons barraiade themselves indoors until further notice. Authorities will be blocking the Webster and Posey tubes and lifting the drawbridges. People will not be allowed to enter or leave the island. This is *not* a test.

We had listened to this message twice when we heard it. A low moaning coming from outside. Jen stuck her head out the fire escape to see what was going on. When she pulled her head back inside, she was pale. "They're downstairs," she muttered. "About 5 of them." That's when the banging started.

Thinking quickly, I had everyone grab anything that could be used as a weapon - heavy pans, large objects, baseball bats, anything. The window on the front door of the complex broke with a resounding crash. The undead had made it into the building.

I will pause here to mention that the front door of my part of the complex is actually the second story of an old Victorian-esque home reachable by a large wooden staircase that is build over the door to the first-floor apartments. Goddess help our neighbors who lived on the first floor.

As those of us with enough bravery (or stupidity) charged ahead to fight off the small invasion, I yelled at the others to try to go for the head. It would either stop them or at least make it harder for them to attack. Those things are vicious. I narrowly escaped being bitten twice as I fought them off, though one managed to scratch my arm. I have since removed some of the flesh surrounding the wound and soaked it in Bactine. It still throbs. I hope I'm not infected.

The most frightening thing is that, though they looked human and quite fresh despite a few obvious wounds, there was nothing human about those eyes. They were blank, unfocused, un-dilating, emotionless eyes. It was like looking into a mirror in the near dark - nothing to see but the shadow of your own reflection. Before I knew it, we had dismembered them all. Luckily, we all escaped with minor wounds. No one was bitten - that time. Two of my neighbors volunteered to check in on our first-floor neighbors, as there were no more undead in sight. Our neighbors downstairs, those that were home, had been ravaged and were themselves shambling about in a daze. We lost two men fighting them off.

We took the dismembered pieces of zombie into the backyard and started a pyre in the dirt. One of the hands twitched as I picked it up. It still felt alive. I can't say I was sorry to throw it on the fire.

Those who were too scared to leave the building walked around to all of apartments and started to gather necessary supplies - filling buckets with fresh water and gathering both perishable and non-perishable items. It was decided that we would camp out on the top floor and barricade the doors downstairs as well as the top of the stairway. At least then we could use the stairs to our advantage. Our landlord took charge of building the barracade. Myself and one other watched the fire to make sure it burned thoughoughly.

Once the barracades were up, the waiting began. The police and fire departments were having a relatively easy time controlling the zombie outbreak in Alameda, owing to our not having a proper cemetary on the island. We could hear sirens and some commotion coming from the direction of Park St., but little else.

I heard from my family an hour ago. They are unable to get to the island because of the barracade. We set up a meeting place outside of the Bay. I also was able to get ahold of ribbin. He is heading for the hills and setting fires as he goes. I tried to talk him out of it, as he'll burn the innocent and the dead, but it is sounding more and more like there is only the dead. Still no word from dearbhail and josh_summit.

The wound I recieved in the fight is burning. I'd be tempted to removed the whole arm, but we'll see how things go. I'm sure that my neighbors will do what is necessary if the time comes.