Home by the River

A note found in a shack by the river. It's old and yellowed, must be from the ancient times.

The sound of the nearby river is calming, it helps me sleep through the gnawing feeling in my gut. My make-shift hut of scraps of wood hammered together does little to make me feel safe. I haven't seen another person in months but I still feel like I'm not alone... The river, just listen to the river. It's therapeutic in a way. It's actually the only reason I set up my "camp" here. I use camp loosely because It's just my "house" and a small dirt pit for a fire. I'm am both calmed and unnerved by this babbling brooke, the sound at night does, in fact, help me sleep; but on the colder nights, the ones where the wind bellows profusely, I swear I can hear a woman singing. The song is familiar, but I can't place it in my mind, and the voice feels like home, but I don't know any home other than this one and my last. It sets my teeth on edge and makes my skin crawl upon my flesh.
Speaking of my other home, it's where I awoke and where I stayed for months until an accident caused the end of that place. I remember being extremely dazed and thirsty as I looked about the large barn I was holed up in. I had a noticeable beard on my face and my nails needed a trimming; most memorably though was the smell of my clothes. It amazes me still how it was almost as pungent as the permeating smell of the decayed flesh on unfed farm animals. But, that's neither here nor there, trust me, I bathed as soon as possible. I accidentally fell asleep next to the fire and awoke to the smell of my left arm cooking in a fire that was as well cooking the barn. My arm is fine now, a little scarred, but hey, isn't that what the ladies like?
Lady... That singing woman's voice disturbs me on a profound level. I've sat out there, over by the river, on a sizable rock, waiting for her, numerous times to no avail. But when I'm just about to fall asleep I hear her, singing gayly like the world is still fine. It's almost like a lullaby, but the tune is a little more cheery, as though it was a bar song that was slowed down just enough to become creepy. The world isn't fine by the way. I've traveled miles, searched every home and shop, yelled out at the highest peaks I found, but there is no life anywhere. Even the animals are hiding from me. The shops and homes look as though everyone just got up and left. The food is rotten and the furniture is dusty, but everything looks frozen where it was meant to be. No rush to leave, not even a messy teenage room, everything was perfectly placed, a long time ago.
I don't remember anything before the barn when I woke up. It irritates me beyond measure. Maybe, just maybe, I'll remember soon. I hope it's soon because I'm surprised I haven't lost my marbles yet, and I'm terrified it will start to happen soon.
Tonight I'm going to search for her again, by the river. The water has looked enticing lately, maybe I'll take a dip.