The End of Everything

June 14, 2048

Dear Diary,

The air outside was hot, and the sun was shining brightly this morning. All the plants were vibrant colors. Summer has finally arrived. The nightmare that is Sexton High is over for another year.

That should make me happy. I should be sitting by the lake with my friends, soaking up some vitamin D and a tan that will make Brad drool. Brad...I had been counting the days till summer break so that I could spend every waking moment wrapped in his huge biceps, or the passenger seat of his convertiable. Instead, I am here. The bomb shelter has no windows. There isn’t a drop of sun to be found. I may never see Brad again.

My mother hasn’t stopped crying for a second. As usual, she is completely useless. She should be consoling Kevin, Liza, and me. Instead, I am consoling her and my siblings. Dad, being National Guard, is still out delivering supplies to the other shelters. Someetimes I wonder what it would be like to have a "normal "mom". Other girls my age complain about their mothers smothering them. I just wish my mom could care about me and my siblings. The doctors are no help. They just prescribe more pills. I can't even remember how many she is on now. They call this medicine, but I have watched my mother disappear a little more with each new "medication." My siblings will never remember our real mother at all. Sometimes I fear I might forget her as well.

The last radio update was over an hour ago, and The President had still not made a final decision. He is playing with our lives. Shoot the nuke already! I do not want to watch Liza and Kevin die. I have kept the radio turned up loud all day like Father told me, much to my Mother's and Liza's dismay.

Liza is distraught and has been living in a constant state of tantrum. She isn’t upset about the disaster of course. Being only three, she is too young to understand that. However, she understands her daddy is gone and she is locked in a strange dark room. She doesn’t like the dry frosted flakes Dad had given us before leaving. She wants milk. She had an accident, and since we have no changes of clothes here, I had to hand wash her underwear in the sink. She says they feel weird. On and on. Anything she can find to be upset about, she is. Mom’s crying doesn’t help. It frightens Liza.

Kevin is a bit more mature at 5. I don’t know that he completely understands how bad the situation is, but he realizes something is terribly wrong. He has been silently playing with a toy truck in the corner since we arrived. Sometimes he looks up to say “It will be ok momma. It will won’t it Jodie?” I assure him that we will be fine, and he goes back to playing silently. He is quite the picky eater, so being allowed to munch on dry frosted flakes all day has been a dream for him. He doesn’t like the water though, and keeps asking why he can’t have Coca-Cola.

Whatever happens, I hope Dad makes it back safely soon. I can’t play Mommy much longer. I am only 16. My mother, Emily Fellon, should be mothering me!

I want this to be over. I want out of this shelter. I want to kiss Brad on the lips, beneath the sun’s rays.

Till then, this is Jodie signing off.