I'm not aware of what happened right after the explosion. I assume the primal part of my brain took over and dragged me to safety, because I woke up some point later in an unrecognisable forest bathed in sweat and shaking. Most of the trees were badly singed; some were simply charred stumps. The sky was a sickening shade of crimson and ash was falling like dead rain.
I assumed I'd ended up in Hell.
Not sure how I would have accomplished such a feat, what with being first kept prisoner in my own home, and then in a mental facility. Unless you count angry thoughts as angry deeds, of course. I had a fair amount of those.
I decided to explore this new hell. It couldn't possibly be worse than the old one, I reasoned, and I didn't seem to be under the effects of the medication they usually pumped me full of. For once, the colours were vibrant and vivid, and the smells and sounds didn't seem to be coming at me from a thousand miles away.
After 2 years in a sterile facility, even brimstone and sulphur smells great.
I left the forest in short time, and the landscape opened up into a vast wasteland of destroyed buildings, smashed cars and dead bodies. I didn't recognise the town, although I don't suppose I would. I'd never set foot outside Happy Meadows since the day I was interned there.
Until now, of course. But I didn't even know if I was really outside because of some freak natural disaster, or maybe I'd finally cracked and gone completely insane and this was all in my head.
It seemed pretty real if it was psychotic hallucination. And I didn't have anything else I'd rather be doing.