Listen to my story. This is the end.
There was nothing to write over the last year. Nothing important anyway. It happened while we were sleeping. The earth shook so much, it cracked the walls of our home. We sprung a leak in a water pipe. Nothing we couldn’t fix fast. The girl and I had trained for this.
Everything got cold. The window of the bunker door was blocked by dirt, or at least that’s what we thought at first. Turns out the sun was just hidden. Gone. Stuffed away behind clouds so thick that we couldn’t see even a hint of light. The window frosted up the next day, and it stayed like that for months.
She and I were right, though. We had enough of everything. We are completely bored and tired of apples. None of us want to watch any movie or play any games we brought. It’s weird to see movies of people in big cities, knowing that those cities are gone now.
The radio man never called back. We tried to get in touch for months. It just never worked.
I don’t think many people made it. I’m sure there were other people like Mr. Trainer out there who prepared for the end of the world by making underground bunkers. I’m sure the government did something for people in large cities, apart from giving them suicide pills. At least, I want to think that’s the case.
Our family here is very tight knit now. The girl and I are very close. The child smiles a lot more now. He still remembers his real family, but he hardly talks about them anymore except when remembering something good and happy. We’ve all taken care of each other in our darkest moments. We celebrated birthdays down here, even though we don’t have gifts to give. The girl and I thought this would be the hardest on the child, but he made mud dolls for everyone on his birthday. Mine sits on my bedside table.
The only time things got really hard was when our candles started getting low. We couldn’t spare the electricity, so we settled for very little light almost all the time. That turned out pretty badly for us when we started to finally see light outside. Our eyes had a lot of trouble adjusting when we turned the lights on or when the sun began to shine again.
Just two days ago now, I went to the bunker door to look. The light of the sun is out there again. The dust cloud is thin. I put on a hazmat suit and went outside to check. All I can say is that it is truly miraculous that our planet survived a planet killer. I don’t know how to describe what I saw. The sun was still burning up in space, but its only obstruction was a thin layer of dust now. And that’s just enough light for grass to be growing back.
The farmhouse is still here, but it’s pretty beat up. The trees looked dead, but a few have buds on them. I can’t imagine how that happened. Everything seems…
What? Normal? No, not by a long shot. But this is how it is going to be. At least, for a while.
The girl and the child came up, and we dared to breathe the air. It’ll be just fine up here.
Yesterday, we fixed up Mr. Trainer’s house. It’s our house now, we decided. We’re like pirates that take what isn’t ours. Is there such a thing as private property anymore? I don’t know. I don’t care. But the house can be a home when we get it working. What I found the most surprising is that the well still works. Don’t question it.
We spent one final night in the bunker before moving to our new house. Things will be okay. We still have food. We’re going to grow food. The sky seems clearer. The solar panel works, and I am already recharging batteries.
We have shelter. We have food. We have seeds. We have power. We have water. I can’t believe how hopeful I feel, especially when I remember how hopeless things were a year ago. These were supposed to be our last days, but maybe now they are our first.