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Drama Fiction Sad

It is my 17th birthday today. As  most  teenagers  do I  think  its  silly  to  wish  for  stuff  but  if  I  didn't  think  it  was  weird, I  would  probably  wish  to  be  able  to  leave  the  bunker, it has  been  a life  long  dream  of mine. I am  so  sick  of  waking  up  to  these  gray  walls  every  day,  the  smells  of  which  I can  only  describe  as  muddy  and  humid. I  know  it  isn't  going  to  happen  though.  We  have  been  down  here  for  hundreds  of  years.  After  a  nuclear  bomb  went  off  in Hong Kong  the  world  hasn't  been  habitable,  or  so  I've  been  told. I  don't  think  that  is  true. I  know  it  sounds  crazy  but I  think  I'm in a  cult. I  have  read  so  many  books  about  stuff  like  this. I  love  reading, I  find  it is  the  only  way  to  pass  time in  my  boring  life  which  mostly  consists  of  being  forced  to  worship  our  gods,  doing  chores  and  school  work. I  do not  even  have  any  friends  here,  everyone  is  gossipy  and  I  know  they  all  judge  me.  

 I  would  like  to  try  and  escape,  even  though  I  know  it is  impossible,  so  I  never  will  be  able  to.  If  there  was  an  escape  I  don't  know  if  I  would  be  courageous  enough  to  take  it.  You  see  there's  a  rule  in  the  bunker.  If  you  sin  or  do  something  bad,  you  are  not sent  to  jail  like  the  characters  in  my  books.  You  are  forced  to  kill yourself,  if  you  don't  you  can be sure  someone  else  will  do it  for  you.  That's  how  my  parents  died.  It  doesn't  bother  me  too  much.  Other  than  the  judgement  I  get  from  the  few  old  people  remaining. I bet  they  have  all  done  something  bad  that  no  one  knows  about,  still,  that  does  not stop  them  from  being  so  damn  narcissistic.  They  judge  me  for  reading  the  books  that  I  love,  and  for  my  parents. I  know  they  are  waiting  for  me  to  sin  just  like  them. I'm not sure  what  my  parents  did  that  was  so  bad,  no  one  will  talk  to  me  about  them, I  doubt  anyone  even  remembers. People  come  and  go  so  quickly  here.  Maybe  they  just  had  enough  of  this  place.  The  women  here  are  taught  to  have  a  kid  as  soon  as  possible,  so  you  can  keep  the  human  race  going.  Every  Monday,  Wednesday  and  Friday  I  and  the  other  teenagers  in  the  bunker  have  to  go  to  our  religious  classes.  If  you  skip  class  without  having  proof  of  being  sick,  you  are  dead.  You  cant  be  killed  until  you're  15.  Lucky  me.  Everyone  here  looks  down  on me  for  not  having  the  same  thought  process  as  them. I  know  they  want  me  dead.  They  say it is  the  reading,  they  think  it is a  waste  of time,  that  it  puts  thoughts  in  your  head  that  shouldn't  be  there,  nonsense.  Maybe  they  are  right, I  mean  look  at  what  I'm  thinking  about.  Maybe  I'm  just  crazy  and  we  aren't  in a  cult,  maybe  this  is a  bunch  of  nonsense.  Maybe  I  should  just  kill  myself.   

No, I  don't  want  to  die.  It  is  unnerving  that  someone  could  kill  me at  any  moment  and  everyone  would  think  its  justified,  you  learn  to  live  with  it  though.  When  you  turn  15,  they  give  you  a  sort  of  gun,  It  is  quite  small, I  think  everyone  has  one  so  the  workers  can  frame  people  if  stuff  gets  messy.  I've  heard  you  don't  even  realize  you've  been  shot. I do not  think  that  is  true  though, how  would  anyone  know  if  nobody  has  survived  it? 

I  just  noticed  the  window  above  me. I  wonder  why  we  even  have  windows  if   we  are  not  allowed  to  open  them  or  see  the  world.  Perhaps  It's  my  time  to  try  and  escape.  Maybe  it's  impossible. I  mean  why  would  I be  the  only  person  to  ever do it,  It  mustn't  be  possible.  Unless  no  one  has  tried  because  they  thought  the  same  things  as me,  maybe  I can be  the  first,  other  people  can  follow  my  lead.  It  might  be  the  books,  or  the  bunker  making  me  delirious,  making  me  believe  I can  escape. I  run  back  to  my  room  and  grab  the  hammer  that  is  being  used  to  fix  my  tap, I stop  for  a moment  and  watch  the  water  drip  down  into  the  sink.  Am  I  really  going  to  do  this?  Yes. I  have  to, I do not  want  to  be  miserable  anymore. Plus, I  like  to  think  it is  what  my  parents  would  have  wanted. I  run  back  to  the  room  with  the  window.  Maybe  I'll  finally  be  able  to  see  a  dog  or  rain...  The  windows  are  blocked  with  a  tape-like  material. I  hammer  at  the  window,  hope rises  in  my  chest  as it  starts  to  crack.  It  is  so  loud, I am  getting  worried.  Maybe  this  was  a  bad  idea.  It  starts  to  break, I  think  it  will  be OK, but  when  it  does  I  find  the  other  side  is hard,  Like  wood  or  stone.  All  the  hope  I  have  immediately  vanished. Of  course, I  couldn't  get  out. I  realize  we  aren't  near  the  surface,  someone  would  have  found  us  already  if  we  were. I sit on  the  floor  and  cry, I am  so  stupid.  When  I  look  up  I  see  a  camera  and  the  panic  sets  in, I  guess  I  will  be an  example. Not  for  what  I  wanted  though, I'm  going  to  be an  example  for  people  not  to  escape. People  will  be  talking  about  me  tomorrow  as  if  it is  the  most  casual  thing  ever.  The  old  people  will  be  talking  about  how  they  knew  this  would  happen, I  was  corrupt  from  the  start.  This  is  the  worst  birthday  ever, I  knew  wishes  were  silly, I  should  have  listened  to  myself. I am  scared. I  know  what  is  coming  for  me.  When  I  hear  someone  enter  the  room  everything  goes  black.  

November 06, 2020 19:35

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