I woke up in a corner of the room; blood covering my head and dust caked on my clothes. I slowly lifted my face up, daring to look at my surroundings. I knew it wasn't going to be pretty. And as I let my hands slip down my cheeks I discovered I was exactly right.

My home was destroyed, along with the rest of humanity. It was worse than any third world. The rest of the survivors looked as damaged as my insides felt. My heart was broken before but this was just crossing the line.

Walking out the open doorway of my infested house, I went in the dirty streets. It was the aftermath of the bombing.

The weird thing is I wasn't worrying about myself, or caring about my physical pain. All I wanted was to know where my family and my friends were. I was the only one in my house. Where were my parents? Surely they couldn't be… gone.

I also noticed my dog disappeared.

And where was my grandmother? Was she sheltered in her home from the attack? A part of me realized that maybe it was her time-but I shouldn't think like that! Even though… she was old, and she would be better off in a safe haven rather than hunting, killing, and stealing just to survive in this waste planet.

It wasn't worth it! Sure, most of these people deserved to die but not the ones who actually did. They were the good people, the people you and me needed just to live.

I spotted my neighbor in his garage.

"Mr. Miller!" I couldn't have said that any lower. My voice, as well as my whole body was in shock.

"Marie, you're alive!" he exclaimed.

I walked towards him while muttering unfortunately. Surely he couldn't have heard that.

"Yea… I am… have you seen any of them?" I asked. He knew who I was talking about.

He shook his head and said in a sorrowful tone, "I'm afraid not kiddo; only you so far."

I reached into one of my jean pockets and retrieved my sunglasses. At least I still had one of my possessions. I carefully put them on.

Whenever I was outdoors you wouldn't be able to see my eyes. I was wearing shades constantly; and sometimes even indoors. You know why? People always asked me that and now I'm giving the only people left an honest answer… I didn't want my eyes to give everything away. I believed the eyes could tell everything about a soul, much more than the mouth ever could. You could see their past, their secrets, their dreams… I didn't want just anyone knowing that much about me. I didn't even want my neighbor to know. I barely knew him. My dad knew about the guy way better than I did.

My dad; my father… he knew this was going to happen all along. He said it wasn't able to stop. I wanted to try but honestly, I was a fifteen year old girl who lived in the suburbs my whole life… how far did you expect me to get?

I always assumed I would get farther. In my heart I always liked to think I had an important purpose; an out of the ordinary purpose. I didn't want to be just an average pedestrian. My goals weren't to go to college, fall in love, get married, and have children. Not by a long shot. First off I didn't believe college was for me, so I attended trade school. Second, I didn't believe in love; but I was a hopeless romantic about it in the fictional world. Third, yes I did plan to get married but it had nothing to do with love; only the money, and forth I would never have a child for it to grow up in this world.

So I ended my family's bloodline right then and there.

My dad told me about it before hand, that I would be the last Coglini on the face of the earth. I believed him but I didn't think it would happen for a while.

He proved me wrong…

Mr. Miller invited me into his house and cooked us up some breakfast. He was a really good cook and quite resourceful. We had one egg each and one and a half pieces of toast. I learned to eat even the white part of the egg because I knew even if it wasn't my favorite there was a limited supply of food. Orange juice mixed with water was filled up to the very last drop in our cups.

"You shouldn't keep everything bottled up," he told me from across the oak table.

"Why not, my dad did." I knew I shouldn't have said that. Oh God, I'm such a big mouth! Would my dad have minded if he heard me say that?

Wherever he was I hoped he still trusted me.

"Your dad was a good man and your mom was a wonderful lady. They wanted you to be in good care if anything happened to them. I would know, they told me. With you being so independent they figured you would be able to handle yourself, but if you don't want to live alone your always welcome here," he said.

"Thanks," my voice cracked. "I think I'll accept your invitation Mr. Miller."

"I remember I always wanted that house to myself… I was stupid for wanting that. I realized that when it was truly empty it was just a pile of a hurricane, a shack… God, I hated that house anyways. We were supposed to get out of there once I graduated," I added.

"Your whole family?" he inquired.

"It was supposed to be me and my dad. He wanted to get out of this place his whole life and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to move on my own. I didn't think I'd know how… but my dad, he seemed to know just about everything. I wish I was as smart as he was…" my tone drifted.

"You already are kid." He wiped his lip with a napkin nearby.

I adjusted my sunglasses.

"Are you crying?" he asked with concern.

"No," I quickly replied, "crying is for pussies. Besides, even if I did cry would that really help at all?"

He remained silent.

"Well would it?" I almost shouted.

"I guess not," he responded as he stood up, taking my dish and his dish, stacking them on top of each other as well as collecting the cups and silver wear.

"Mr. Miller… Bert," I tried to stick by calling him by his first name from now on. He said he would prefer it.

"Can I borrow a weapon of yours? I'm gonna go look around," I told him, getting up off my chair also.

"There are a couple of guns lined up in my closet, just be careful with them," he warned.

I took one and put it protectively around my shoulder. "I will."

I headed out the door and walked down the porch steps.

I went back to my house and carefully went up the steps. The stairs were definitely not as they originally were. Half of them were missing. I crept to my room and I barely recognized it. The shelves were knocked down, my TV was cracked, and ceiling titles along with some adobe substances were sprinkled over all my belongings. I picked up my most cherished items: my diary along with my diary key, my notebook which contained my story ideals and poetry, and then I spotted it. With my luck, I wouldn't have thought it was still there, but my pink teddy remained underneath the sheets of my bed.

I bet you weren't expecting a tuff girl like me to keep a stuffed animal, but I did, ever since the day I was born. My father picked it up at the hospital gift shop just minutes after I arrived in this world. I had a picture of me as a baby with it and all but it probably designated. Not that it mattered.

The attic fell through so that its contents were covering the entire second floor. I was looking for it. I hoped it was still there; and there it was: an aluminum box. I took it in my hands along with the other things I took with me. Opening the tin, I quickly removed its contents and put them in my pocket. I took the box anyways; I don't know why I did, and I put it into one of the suitcases that survived and I wringed it around my arm and continued my searching elsewhere.

After walking a few blocks I reached the woods. With every step taken I looked all around me to make sure no one else was following. I ran carelessly down a hill, between the trees, and on top of the brown leaves. Finally I reached the river.

I realized I was not alone.

A man was there. He was grimy looking and went unshaved. His clothes looked like he's been through the public sewer system and back with them.

"Who are you?!" he yelled in a hillbilly's accent.

"Just another survivor," I retorted, taking a few steps closer.

"GET OFF MY LAND!" he shouted.

"Wait," I tried reasoning, "what's that you got there?"

"Eh… just some food, water, flashlights, you know, that kind of stuff. Now… get out of here before I-I change my mind about letting you leave," he threatened.

Yea right, like this pervert can assault me while I'm holding the gun and he's defenseless.

"I'll offer you a trade for some of that," I said, a logical plan forming in my head.

"What's the trade?" he queried.

I slowly snuck my hand in my jean pocket and took out what had been in the tin earlier. He looked back confused at me while I torn the green worthless paper bills in half. Then I raised my gun and shot. Before I killed him he had the vision of being a deer trapped in head lights.

I lowered the shot gun and approached the bloody scene. The lifeless body had a huge open circle going through its heart the size of a black hole.

I took all of his belongings and continued my journey. My next action was to look for all the technology that survived the attack and then repair it fully and bring it back to Mr. Mill-I mean, Bert's house.

As my feet kept moving automatically I started to think about my family more, my mother this time. I never fully appreciated her. Sure I loved her but I was angry at her for the most part, as well as she was angry at me. She never seemed to understand any of it. Knowing she would not have believed a word of my father's story we kept it a secret from her. Neither I, nor my dad was very good at explaining things.

Still, I miss her. I miss all of them. I wish I could have gotten my mother the help she needed and if prayer actually worked I would've prayed for my father to be healthy again. They both seemed so sad on the last day we lived together. I wish I could've changed that, maybe tried to be a better daughter; maybe not have been so worthless.

But that's enough- I can't go back in time. I just have to be a big girl and accept faith. I vowed to not kill myself, no matter how hard it got. Suicide is the coward's way out and when I die I'm going to die fighting. I also made another promise and that promise was to find every one of those bastards that that ever messed with my family, and then I would kill them slowly, just like they tried to kill my dad. They were the reason he couldn't take it any more. They were the reason my mom flipped out every time when there wasn't enough money. If only she was here now I could tell her honestly that money isn't an issue anymore.

As days, months, and weeks pass by I continue to stick to my word. I recently found out some of my friends have survived. That I am thankful for.