posted on Oct, 15 2014 @ 05:51 PM
Approximately 3 months and another 300 meals had passed since we turned our backs on our own humanity. The stifled screams and fractured images of
fleeing filtered through the dirty plastic covers with which we had wrapped our new beginning. We had started our own species locked within a home
which was once structured in love and compassion. All of that was a memory and had been neatly placed in a black hole that I felt was best not too
acknowledge, this was what I was best at.
My need to protect my wife and two children of four and seven has led me to a position of the all powerful. For a person who once detested
everything about control I was shocked to find I had gradually become a master at it. All information was fed to my family in what I felt were
acceptable pieces which was as minimal as the food and water. But this was what I deemed was right for our survival and at what quickly became at any
With only a minimal amount of preparation this last day of dependence on our old lives was quickly upon us. No matter how small the rations got the
stock pile seemed to disappear with all of my pride and eventually fear. My preparations to locate a more permanent home had been made weeks in
advance and had replaced the feeling of guilt with that of determination. With my home made hazard suit and taped gloves and boots I checked through
all of the supplies for which my family were dependent on until my return, of which there was no guarantee. All goodbye tears had been something of
our past life from which I felt more pity than sadness. I pulled in place my gas mask blinkering my view of all what was behind me, pulled open the
door and stepped out into the blackness to acknowledge our past and hopefully our future.