This is an older story that I wrote based on a challenge. At the time some of my board mates were into writing very realistic Apocalyptic/Post Apocalyptic stories. I was challenged to write a very realistic story along these lines in the least amount of space possible. This story is brutal, gruesome and hard to take. It does however portray what might happen in the worst possible circumstances in a failing world. I wonder if I could have made the same choice that Sam's Father made. Give it a read and let me know what you think. I now give you See No Evil Samantha, Sam. That’s what most people call me. I had just turned 16 years old when the world as we knew it ended. We lived in a brownstone my father owned downtown when things started to fall apart. It had been about a month when all of the financial systems here in the US shut down or just ceased to exist. Things had not been too bad when everything first started. It was almost like a camping trip we took at home. No lights, but the water continued to work for a while. It was still nice to go to the bathroom, better than the hole in the backyard my father dug. That was yucky… Now even cleaning up a bit was a chore. Water to heat and clean rags to find, boy do I miss the washer and dryer. Until this all started I had never worn a set of clothes more than one day. That is not the case now. In time things got worse. More gunfire was heard in the streets as well as screaming and crying into all hours of the night. My dad has done an awesome job at keeping us safe so far. I am not sure, but I think he has shot a couple of guys. He works very hard at keeping us from seeing all the evil in the world. Two nights ago things started to get worse. Very bad I might say. My dad says that a group of bad people had started about twelve blocks down the street, and they were invading the homes on both sides of the street and that they were killing and raping everyone inside and taking everything of value. They were moving our way. Dad had worked very hard to get us out of the area, but all of his plans had fallen through. Last night the group was four blocks down the street and my dad did something I had never seen him do. He sat on the edge of his bed and cried. Me and Mom had tried very hard to ease his worry but were not able to offer much in the way of help. I have never seen him so upset. Things are very bad. I know my Dad has shot several people this morning even though he won’t talk about it. I now sit in the closet in the front hall with the door closed. I hear all kinds of noise and gunfire. I hear my Mom scream like I have never heard before and sit on a bucket here in the closet with my hands over my eyes. I am not sure what good it does, but it makes me feel better. I hear my father’s footsteps outside the door as he opens the closet door just a slight bit. I see my Dad leaning into the small opening. He looks at me as the tears roll down his face. As I stand to comfort him, he shakes his head no. He looks at me as he speaks, “I love you Sam, I love you with all my heart and soul baby. Put your hands over your eyes. Everything is going to be Ok baby.” As the two men burst through the front door, they hear a gunshot come from the closet the man is leaning into. He turns to face them as the tears flow from his eyes and as the gun comes up in his hand. They blow him to pieces as his house is torn apart. The two men walk over to the closet he had just closed and opened it to discover its hidden treasure. Both stood in shocked astonishment as they looked at the little girl with the fresh gunshot wound to her forehead. They looked at each other and closed the door. The older of the two men looked back at the crew working the house and told them that the closet was off limits. The carnage continued and Sam would never see her 17th birthday.
