It's Tuesday. Unusually cold out this morning, feels nice. Hasn't rained in 2 weeks. The last few days at camp haven't gone well. The white men have been withholding most of the food for themselves, it's becoming too hard for us West Indians. Robert died last Wednesday for trying to steal some food for his son. Poor man was whipped to death. Last Friday big freight derailed half way down the track, slid down the hill into camp adjacent ours. Rebeca's hut got slammed in, deaths in the hundreds. Most of the overseers aren't even recording it, and leaving their town's work for us.
Wednesday, wife's not doing well, she got a mosquito bite, high fever, probably malaria, the kids aren't taking it well. We asked the doctor to help, nothing we could do. Asked a local witchdoctor, trying some ballistic medicine. Jerry got in trouble for dropping a cart, no food for 2 days. The man won't make it that long.
Thursday, medicine not working, doctor says it made her worse, she won't be alive for much longer. Don't what i will do. Jerry begged the overseers to give him a week without food for enough to feed his kids, he was denied, and whipped. The man is losing his mind, told me he was plotting suicide if his kids don't make it.
at least 5 days since last entry. Lost track of days, Status : lost hope, Jerry has commit suicide, wife is dead, my kids are losing hope, i'm pretty sure i am too. Our camps running out of food, so they cut our food, i can't afford to feed myself, gave it all to my sons.
Day... The end. It's dark, I don't know what happened. Everyone outside is dead. Woke up from some screaming about a mud slide. I'm the only one alive in my camp, buried under mud, a broken arm and 2 broken legs. No hope for survival. Goodbye, world.
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