But that was a long time before I was born. I was born at 12:36pm on the 20th July 2093 in Worthing District Hospital at a not so healthy 4lbs 2oz. I was the first born of eventually, four girls, Lilac, Georgina and Faye.
My name is Rachael and I am just 17 in the year 2120 – one hundred years since the station was built. The rest of my life is really just filler until The Day. I fell down the stairs once and broke my leg; I have a scar on my arm from falling through a pane of glass when I attempted to run into the patio door and my parents split up in 2108. As I have mentioned before, just the everyday filler.
Today we watched as the nations of people who hated us died in flames and we still suffered, not because of the physical implications that were inevitable, but because... I don't know. I think it's that we are all human and human life would be so indefinitely precious to us if only we could understand why it should be.
So we wept in the shelters, for those who died, for those that caused it, for those that will die and lastly for ourselves – we were as far as we were certain the only ones still drawing breath into our lungs, and the only ones here to witness the end of humanity. What more could be have been so sure of?
The dim lights in our shelter flipped off, the underground cables had been jolted and snapped our power. I tried other electrical items like the radio and the television, but none flickered into life.
We were cut off from the world, in darkness and too scared to open our hatchway in fear of death. Now, we were truly alone. We huddled together on the camp-beds in the shelter and my mother, sisters and I pulled the covers on to fall asleep. If we died, it was together and if we survived we would stay together. Faye was still weeping into my arms as I drifted off into a painful, dreamy sleep. I knew no better comfort now than the echoes in my mind and the warm touch of our hands as we left our dark world.