I hope this gets out to someone, because I don’t know how well the internet will work from down here.
It’s been four days since we sealed the doors, but remember the events from that day like it was this morning.
It was senior sunrise, that day. A group of my friends and I got up at 5:30, so we could see the sunrise. It’s a tradition. So, at 5:45, we were all on a hill, just as the sun began to rise. It was beautiful, filling the sky with red and orange as the ball of light rose above the horizon.
After the sunrise, we went out for breakfast at iHop. We stayed for several hours, talking about how crazy it was that high school was over, and what our plans were for college.
One of my friends, Lily, got a full ride to Princeton. She was easily the smartest person in the whole state, and she was going to go to Princeton and become an astrophysicist. I wish I could go back and see her again.
While we were talking, all of the TVs switched to an emergency broadcast channel. “International emergency,” they called it, telling us to take shelter as far underground as possible. That’s all they told us. Seek immediate shelter underground, or in fallout shelters.
We quickly drove to another friend, Sam’s house. All of us except for Lily. She had driven separately, and decided that she would go home. We parted ways, and sped over to Sam’s.
Sam’s house had been in his family for generations. It was a large house, built around the 1800s. During the Cold War, Sam’s grandfather was overtaken by fear of nuclear warfare, and he had constructed a rather large fallout shelter underneath the estate. That’s where we were headed; Sam’s fallout shelter.
When we got there, Sam’s father let us in, telling us to help him gather as many non-perishable foods as we could find. Canned food, jugs of water, bottles of wine and whiskey, among other things. He herded us out of the house and across the yard, towards the entrance of the shelter.
It had been a particularly cloudless day, the sky shining brilliant blue since sunrise. Despite it being the middle of the day; the sun shining as bright as it could, the world around us started to get brighter, almost glowing. We turned around to search for the source of the light to be met with a second sunrise.
A glowing sphere of light shone over the horizon, at first appearing to rise higher into the sky. However, it soon became apparent that the second sun wasn’t rising. It was growing. That light was growing and growing, getting brighter and brighter as it grew.
At this point, the ground began to shake, almost throwing us off our feet. The rumbling of the earth filled the air, drowning out the other sounds. We ran into the shelter, then, and the door slammed shut behind us.
The blinding light filling the air was cut off, throwing us into complete darkness. As our eyes adjusted, we found the light switch, and illuminated the shelter. The shelves were lined with more canned goods and jugs of water, and the walls were lined with anti-communist propaganda and guns. It looked exactly like those old photos of post-WWII bunkers depicted them as.
All of that happened four days ago. Since then, we’ve made the best of the situation by playing games and doing random things to distract ourselves from the possible apocalypse outside. All of our radios are dead, or at least, no radio stations are broadcasting. We even tried the 60-year-old HAM radio we found on one of the dusty desks. Nothing. All we can hear is static and endless, deafening silence.
I finally decided that I can’t handle this anymore. I have to at least try to let someone know that we’re here, that we survived. Hopefully, this will reach someone who knows what to do, someone who can save us.
I don’t know how long the five of us can last in here.