“It’s winter.” We saw a vast snowy landscape of rubble and ashes, dark clouds and leafless trees. It was an eerie surrounding. The city was never this quiet. “We need to find shelter and food,” our leader said. Without any doubt, we started scavenging the devastated city’s stores and buildings to food and shelter to stay.
We found a building where all the resources we need were pristinely intact. Our faction stayed there and created a safe shelter for everyone. We rebuilt a community we lost weeks ago. Everyone regained the confidence they lost. It was a turning point of our lives. “There’s still hope,” one woman said, while sipping coffee in a rocking chair.
“This is RadioCity and news is coming up.” I found a radio lying beneath the bed assigned to us. “It’s been a month since the Great Nuclear War, and situations haven’t been improving. In the west coast, radiation levels teeter from 200-300 rems, survivors there must be cautious in getting out of their houses – that radiation dose is pretty dangerous.”
“It’s in our area.”
Afternoon. The cold zephyr shivers my sister’s soft, delicate skin. Clouds are so dark; I cannot see how the snow came from above. Living in this evacuated building is like being trapped in a frozen wasteland. There is nothing but trees and snow around it.
On the distant, I see the ruins filled piles of rubble; it was once the downtown we used to waste time. Looking down, I see human bones piled up like a pyramid, cars crushed like tin cans, and dead bodies lying around. This environment does not look like the one where I grew up. I slowly get back to bed, gasp some breath, and close my eyes – hoping for something good.
0 blog comments below