Not Good
The end of the world came, but not how books and movies portrayed the end to actually be.
I was ten when it happened. My parents had me go into a specially designed shelter they made to keep us all alive, but things happened so fast, they never had time to join me.
I had enough stuff; food, bottled water and all that, and I didn’t have to worry about being bored. Plenty of DVD’s, and CD’s to entertain me for at least a year, and there were six small gas-powered generators to keep things going. In one corner of the shelter was about four-hundred gallons of gas.
I had over a thousand books I could read, and a computer I used to write a daily log on what happened and my day-to-day existence. I even managed for a short time to stay in contact with a few friends until the end came for them, or, like me; just cut off from the world with no way to communicate, but I refused to buy into that thinking.
Why?
I’m fourteen now, and the computer still works where I can get online to my Facebook. Not all the power has disappeared as of yet. I leave messages every day. I send emails to my friends and they go through, but I don’t hear back from them.
Four years after the big blast, I stepped out of my shelter and found that the buildings, though destroyed, and dead bodies decaying everywhere; that everything else was working. Electricity, fresh water, freezers, and the like.
Places like Burger King, Arby’s, and Mickey D’s, were all in a strip mall a mile away from me and they had meats and burgers in refrigerator’s, along with lettuce, onion’s and various other stuff that was still somewhat fresh after all this time. I knew I wouldn’t go hungry. My favorite store, although ruined; I had access to what games and movies weren’t destroyed, which was way cool. I took a whole bunch back to my shelter.
On my fourth day out and about, I stopped at a Radio Shack to see what I might find to put to good use. A cell phone on the floor started ringing. That freaked me out! I still ran over to it, picked it up and said hello. No answer. I screamed, “HELLO!”
I heard a voice.
“You are still alive. We will find you. Destroy you!”
I dropped the phone. Then I picked it back up.
“Who is this?”
“General Xythos from Aerona, of the Twenty-Fifth Quadrant. We will destroy you.”
I dropped the phone again and ran as fast as I could back to my shelter. Once inside, I closed and locked the heavy steel door, and kept the lights off, computer off.
They can’t see me in here.
I am so alone.
So afraid.
Why can’t this just be a movie?