Dear journal,
6 weeks, 6 days
I was in trouble. Better yet, I knew I was in trouble the moment I woke up from my blood-loss induced coma. The trouble had something to do with the intense pain coming from my midriff. Apparently replacing what had looked like half my blood after a good puking session hadn’t been easy on my internal food supply, and hunger pains throbbed with the same intensity as any Hunter bite. This is where the trouble came in. The only food on the ship was the dead bodies of once living sapient species.
I didn’t even need to think about it. I didn’t care how hungry I felt. I was not eating that. Deciding such a thing didn’t make my hunger go away, though, and I wasn’t going to survive the whole trip without food. Even if the cargo ship had been slow, it had still take
