I woke up today to the sound of my father yelling, telling us to get up. I woke my sister and hurried to the front door. The Combine patrol was pounding on the door, demanding to be let in to perform an inspection. Last time one of our neighbors down the hall took longer than 10 seconds to respond they broke down his door and “subdued” him. I say “subdued”, but what I really mean is “beat him unconscious with stunsticks.”

My father opened the door to let them in. God what time was it? I looked outside, and the sun wasn’t even up. Why couldn’t they have waited until a more reasonable hour? Oh, that’s a good one. Combine? Reasonable? Well, a guy can dream.

I guess it wasn’t all bad – I mean, at least the cleanup would keep me occupied most of the day. But it also made me hungry, and therein lies a major problem for us. The Combine are pretty strict about food distribution. We always made out somehow, but over the past month I’ve noticed a change in my father’s behavior. Whenever the mention of food comes up, he has an empty look on his face, like he’s somewhere else.

He began having me pick up the rations instead of him a few weeks ago. I still haven’t figured out why. Is he worried about a food shortage? We’ve always had enough food to survive. I mean, we could always use more, but we’re not gonna starve. Is that what’s really bothering him?

Every couple of days I go wandering around the city. I always time these treks with the handing out of rations, but a lot of times I do it just to keep myself occupied. Sis always came with me, but she never left my side – I never let her go anywhere by herself. Periodically a scanner would come by and snap our photo. Ten seconds later I can see again. I keep hoping I don’t go blind. Or get cancer. Who knows what those cameras radiate.

We made our way to the train station to see the new arrivals. Just like the last batch, they were led off the train by Civil Protection and herded into processing. Today though, someone broke the usual silence with a loud “Welcome to Hell, dear brothers!” I have to agree. Couldn’t tell who he was though – definitely not from the other end of the station. Naturally Civil Protection didn’t care for him too much. He climbed up on some crates and started jumping around them, making complete asses out of the Combine. I had to fight back a laugh.

We left the station and began heading back to the apartment. When it starts to get dark, the spire in the center of the city seems to glow brighter. I’ve heard all the horror stories about it, what it does to “disruptive” citizens, but I know there are other things going on in there. I want to know what. But now wasn’t a good time – getting sis home was more important.

If Dad ever knew what I did last night, he’d kill me.

I waited until he and Sis were asleep then snuck out the window in the main room. I knew it creaked, but whenever you try to sneak somewhere the creaking always seems to be 10 times louder. You ever notice that? Fortunately no one else did, so I climbed down to ground level. Bag in tow, I headed off towards the hotel.

The hotel was the tallest building in the neighborhood, and if you could get to the roof it offered the best view of the city, including the Citadel. That was my goal – part of it anyway. I stood a better chance of sneaking in at night when Combine patrols were running on a skeleton crew. But those damn scanners had IR (or at least Dad said so), so I needed to make my move at the right time. I had to wait 15 minutes before I had an opportunity.

Once inside the hotel, it was a cakewalk. The building was deserted, mainly because of all the damage it sustained in the early days of the invasion. The Combine didn’t even bother sending bots up here. It’s the perfect hiding place…..until I remembered that the elevators didn’t work. Hooray, 15 floors by foot. Grrr.

After some painful stair climbing (and periodic breathers) I finally got to the roof. I had a clear line of sight to the Citadel. I pulled Dad’s binoculars out of my bag and set them to maximum zoom. These things were amazing – I could practically see the coast with them! I’m not sure how Dad got a hold of these, but I didn’t care. I panned around some then focused the binoculars on the Citadel’s entrance.

It looked like the Combine were moving equipment out. Lots of crates and electronics. But that didn’t make sense; the Citadel was the center of everything. Why would they remove anything – especially things that look like advanced technology? I kept the binoculars on the crates to see where they went, hoping to get some clue as to what was happening, but I lost track of them behind some buildings. Nuts. There wasn’t much of anything else left, so I decided to head home before I was spotted.

Sis caught me sneaking back into the apartment. There was an awkward silence between us then she smirked and went back to her room. Seems I can’t put anything past her. Thank god for little sisters – always looking out for their big brothers.

I spent most of the day hanging out with Morrie, the resident old guy on the block. He spent a good chunk of his life in Ravenholm as the supervisor for the mines. He’s been around this area for a while though, since before the Combine showed up. He always tells these great stories from the old days, some true, some not. But it’s nearly impossible to tell the difference, so I just believe him. Except the ones about dragons. Pretty sure those are fake. Man, I think I’m getting too old for story time. But I enjoy them.

Sis enjoys them too. Morrie’s been like a grandfather to her. She’s always going over to his room and hanging out. He had all kinds of little trinkets lying around his apartment that she played with. I used to think that her hanging out over there was kind of creepy, but over time I thought that maybe he really is just a nice old man. God forbid there should be any of those around.

When story time was over, Sis and I went back to our apartment. While Sis went to read some books in her room, I went to see Dad, who was looking over some papers. I asked him what they were, and he said it was the preliminary estimate on the food rations for the next few months, and it indicated it’s a lot less than normal. He and I both knew that with three mouths to feed we’d be in trouble.

But he shrugged it off, put the papers in a drawer, and headed off to the couch to lie down. Dad was a smart man – even in the worst of times he always found a way for us to pull through. I’m sure he had a plan this time too.

Search number….one million and two. Spent the better half of the day putting everything back the way it was. Thank god Dad destroyed those ration reports – I’m almost positive he got that information through the rebel network, and if the Combine found it, it’d be curtains for us.

He doesn’t like to admit it, but the rebels have been very helpful to us. Dad tries to keep his distance; he doesn’t want any trouble from the Combine. He wants to make sure that nothing happens to us. I can take care of myself, but we can’t take a chance with Sis.

This search seemed different though. Rather than looking for the standard contraband and rebel paraphernalia, they spent most of their time checking the kitchen cupboards. The ration shortage began a few days ago, so they must’ve thought we were hording or stealing food. They didn’t find any (no surprise, we're starving here!) and decided to cut the search short.

Another apartment down the hall wasn’t so fortunate. They found excess food hidden in a hole in the wall, and it came with a steep price. When I heard the gunshot, I ran to the door and took a quick look in the hall. The woman was crumpled up on the floor, blood seeping out of her head. The man that lived with her was screaming, trying to get to her, attacking the Combine patrol. The Combine responded in kind with their stunsticks. When he was unconscious they carried him off, then bagged the woman’s body and brought it with them.

Though I’ve never seen it, Morrie told me that they take the bodies to a harvesting facility to salvage any body parts and organs they can – the rest is hosed down by the Cremators. No body to bury, no ashes to collect. As for the live ones, they would either be brainwashed and become Combine, or taken to the Citadel to be cut up and turned into Stalkers. It was a lose-lose situation.

I glanced back at Dad. This sort of thing stopped surprising him a long time ago, but I don’t think he was even paying attention. He looked more lost in thought then anything else. I asked him what was wrong (apart from the obvious assault we just saw), but he said nothing. I really wish he would cheer up more.

That whack job was at the train station again. Sis and I chuckled as we watched Civil Protection try to catch him. Apparently everyone else in the station was just as amused – we hardly ever see anything entertaining, so we might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Once he was chased off and the fun was over we headed to the distribution machine to pick up our rations. After a long wait (what was it, an hour? Why did everyone else decide to show up at the same time as us?), we finally got what little food we were allowed and headed back home.

Nothing exciting happened on the way home. Just the usual blinding photographs and Combine poking and prodding loiterers. A chopper flew over head, and when it did, I could feel Sis’s grip tighten. When she was younger she heard stories about the bombing runs these choppers did against rebel forces, so everytime one flies by she thinks it’s gonna drop a bomb on us. I keep telling her that they can’t, not with this being they’re base of operations, not if they wanted to maintain order. But she doesn’t believe me…..and deep down, neither do I.

Our apartment was empty when we got back, which is highly unusual. Dad is almost always there, fixing up little odds and ends to make the place more habitable. Fat chance of that. The floor is rotting under our feet and the walls are cracking. Thankfully we don’t have any cockroaches (the building was fumigated to hell before we were put in here). This place is such a dump that the searches actually make our apartment nicer in some ways.

Dad probably went out to get supplies. As long as he keeps trying – even though it’s useless, at least it keeps him occupied and, I guess, hopeful.

Dad killed himself yesterday.

Sis and I had come back from picking up the rations and he was just there, his feet dangling in the middle of the room. Apparently the light in the middle of the ceiling wasn’t as weak as he said. It held him there without a problem, though I’m not sure where he got the rope from.

I completely froze. I didn’t react until I heard Sis take a deep breath, like she was about to scream. I covered her mouth so she kept quiet – I didn’t want the Combine (or anyone else) to know what had happened. If the Combine found out, they would’ve come to take his body for harvesting. I didn’t want those monsters cutting him up – I wanted to give him a proper burial. Or as proper as I could.

It’s strange how easily I can write about this. I’m not sure if it’s that I don’t care, or I’m in some kind of denial. I haven’t even cried yet. Sis hasn’t stopped crying all day. She locked herself in her room and sobbed away. I think there might be something wrong with me.

I looked around the apartment, not entirely sure what it was I was looking for. Maybe a suicide note or some shred of evidence for why Dad did this. I found a hidden section in one of the kitchen cabinets – apparently the wall was detachable. In it I found the food estimates for the next few months, as well as other rebel-provided info. But there was no note, no evidence.

He left without saying a word.

I still had Dad’s body in the apartment. I wrapped him up in a blanket, but the smell was getting stronger. I had to hide his body before the patrols or any of our neighbors picked up on the scent. I wanted to bury him, but I had to find a place to bury him where the patrols wouldn’t notice.

Sis hadn’t come out of her room since the day he died. I went in everyone once in a while to bring her food, but she slept most of the day. I thought about telling her I was going to bury Dad, but decided not saying anything was the better decision. I closed her door, picked up Dad, and headed out of the apartment.

I knew about a small landfill that was relatively nearby, but getting to it with Dad in tow was a chore. The extra food had made me a little stronger, and the little food he had eaten made him light, but he still felt heavy. On the plus side, it was night time, and I wouldn’t have to worry about him showing up on the scanners’ infrared. …. I can’t believe I just said that.

Took me about an hour to get there. The landfill wasn’t that far away, but carrying him was tiring, and I had to hide from scanners. I spent almost another hour burying him, but at least here I didn’t need to worry about patrols – not even the Combine could tolerate the smell of the place. I masked my nose and mouth with a rag from home, and began digging. I made a fairly deep hole, placed him inside, and covered him back up. He deserved better than this, but this was the best I could do. I hope he understands, and I really hope this works. I covered the fresh dirt with some scrap metal, then walked back home.

Everything is normal now, or as normal as can be. Sis is doing much better; we can even talk about Dad without her having a breakdown. I spent some of today fixing up the place (thanks for the habit Dad). One of the first things I did, which I had forgotten to do after his death, was burn all of the papers he had hidden in the apartment. I couldn’t risk them being found. But I made sure to look through them first before I did so in case there was anything useful.

Sis spent a good chunk of her day over at Morrie’s place. Apparently he knew about our Dad’s death the same day we did. So did everyone else. But thankfully they didn’t say anything. They know why he did it, and everyone respected that. Respected him. I don’t know why, but Morrie says that’s the truth.

Sis came back that afternoon, and we went on our usual city tour. Only this time I took her over near the landfill first so she could see Dad. We kept our distance though; not only because of the smell, but because we didn’t want to draw attention to Dad. A scanner came by and snapped our picture, then moved on.

We swung by the train station to get our rations. Unfortunately crazy-guy wasn’t there…I could use a good laugh right now, and so could Sis. But at least we got the extra rations. The first few times I did this after Dad’s death I was a nervous wreck – I thought for sure the Combine would know. Now I’m a lot calmer and look a lot less suspicious.

Back at the apartment we ate and I finished fixing a few things. Sis went to her room to read like always. Things were getting back to normal, and in some ways life was getting better. I wish Dad could’ve been here for it.

Another one of our not-so-exciting adventures to the train station was actually exciting this time. Well, exciting may not be the best word. It was exciting and scary at the same time. Not sure if they invented a word for that.

Rather than watch the usual civilians getting off the train and lining up single-file for processing, this train was carrying Combine soldiers. Lots of them. Was there a war going on here that I didn’t know about? Why would the Combine need extra forces in this area? The rebel presence wasn’t even that significant from what I knew. There hasn’t been a fight around here in over a year.

But it wasn’t just Civil Protection on the train; they had some elite Combine soldiers on board, as well as sniffers. These guys weren’t screwing around. Who or whatever they were looking for was definitely going to be found. A sniffer’s sense of smell was amazing; it could pick up any scent it is trained to look for no matter how faint. I glanced at the people around me, and they were all just as puzzled as I was (and scared too). I didn’t even realize that Sis had been squeezing my hand so tightly that it started t go numb.

Then another thought crossed my mind -- what if they found Dad’s body in the landfill? Then they’d come after me and Sis. They might kill us, just like that last couple. I wasn’t taking any chances; I hurried home with Sis and left her to reading her books. She knew why I was worried. She wanted to help, but I wouldn’t let her. This was my mistake that I needed to fix. I should’ve tried to cremate him in the first place.

I still haven’t been able to move Dad’s body. Not like I even have an idea of where to move it to.

Combine patrols have become much more thorough and frequent since that last train showed up. During the day sniffers and CP scout the streets, and at night the number of scanners has doubled, making it impossible for me to sneak around. No clue why the sudden surge in Combine presence. I keep waiting for them to come break down my door, but they don’t. God, that makes it even worse. I swung by the landfill while I was out walking, and it didn’t look like they brought sniffers to that side of town. Yet.

If I can’t move Dad’s body soon, the only option left would be to take Sis and get out of town. But to do that I’d need the rebels to help but I don’t know who they are. Dad never bothered to tell us who his contacts were, for our own protection I assume. And I can’t just go knocking on doors asking people if they’re a rebel. Dammit, what the hell do I do?

They found his body. I knew from the way they just broke in our door without even knocking. I had a feeling this would happen someday, so I was prepared. Sis did exactly what I told her to do if they show up. She opened the window in her room, climbed out, and hid on the roof. The Combine said nothing when they came in – they just pulled their stunsticks and started beating me. I only felt the first two or three blows then I blacked out. But I did catch a glimpse of someone coming in the apartment and struggling with the Combine. Then I heard a gunshot, and that’s all I remembered.

That was yesterday. I woke up today and I hurt like hell. Morrie and Sis were both there next to me. I could barely tell it was them thanks to the fact my eyes were pretty much swollen shut. Sis couldn’t stop crying, and I couldn’t blame her. I can’t even imagine what I just put her through. Morrie told me that one of the neighbors down the hall tried to get the Combine off me, and they killed him.

He said after the shot everyone came out to look, and when they saw it was me in trouble, they grabbed pots and pans and were ready to fight them to protect us. Rather than incite a riot, the Combine called it even and left. I tried to ask Morrie why people were willing to die to protect us and he said they owed it to Dad. He wouldn’t say anything past that.

I’m swollen like a balloon. No permanent damage I think, but I can’t really move and it hurts like hell. Civil Protection refused to give me any medical treatment, but that didn’t surprise me. Sis had asked Morrie if he knew anyone who had painkillers and antibiotics for me, but he didn’t.

So Sis did the only thing she could think of – she started to sneak out at night and get me drugs from the medical depot. I nearly flipped out when she told me what she was doing. We’re already on thin ice with Civil Protection, and what she’s doing would earn her a bullet in the head, no questions asked. But I couldn’t stop her. I could barely lift my own head much less stop her from going anywhere.

She played it smart though. She only went at night, stayed out of sight, and near heat sources, just like I did. She’s managed to elude all the patrols and scanners out there. I guess sneakiness is genetic. But every time she goes out I come this close to having a panic attack. I really wish she wouldn’t do that.

I’m feeling so much better now. The swelling is practically gone, and Morrie thinks I should be good to go in another day or two. First thing I did today was make sure Sis stopped trying to sneak me meds – for her own safety, and so I don’t get addicted. She still needed to make the food runs for both of us though.

Needless to say that we’re now down to food rations for just the two of us, which means we get to starve again. I barely ate anything the whole time I was sick, but now my appetite was back in full force. The thought of not having that extra food made the hunger pangs worse. It also made me think of Dad. Now he died for nothing.

It’s getting late outside. The sun’s almost down, and that’s when the ration desk stops distributing. Sis sure is taking a while to get back. She knows the way like the back of her hand, so I know she’s not lost. What’s taking her so long?