People think they know what happens when the world ends. They talk about the monsters emerging from the woods and onto the streets. How the people mutate into hideous creatures, hunting the rest of us down. The sky deepens to red, the water becomes unsafe to drink and we all huddle around the last tin of tuna. Well, the world ended, but that’s not how it went. Those are only ghost stories. The truth is much worse.

I had just arrived at my aunt’s house the night before. My rucksack was still packed by the door. The attic room was in darkness, free from the morning glow I had expected to filter through the curtains. Flimsy pieces of fabric they were. The shower was cold and wouldn’t heat up, I washed my hair anyway. The lime pounding into my scalp like hail. I clambered around the room in search of the uniform my aunt said she left for me. I pulled on the pants and dragged the polo shirt over my wet hair, soaking my back. The hairdryer didn’t work. Sleep attempted to coax me back to bed. I had slept terribly ad a result of a dream that I was being chased. I was woken up continuously by machines, I had assumed were tractors. I descended the unfamiliar stairs of the cottage, hidden in a store room. I slept in what used to be staff quarters back in the day. Entering the dining room I saw the bodies of Aunt, Uncle and Baby. I was supposed to help aunt take care of Baby. Baby didn’t contain enough blood to make pools like Aunt and Uncle. A trickle of red fell from her mouth down to her chin like spit up. The dodie still hanging from her mouth, clinging to her one, tiny tooth. The rattle lay a few metres away. I couldn’t help but wonder if she threw it or did it fall the same time that bullet entered her chest, killing Mickey Mouse. Aunt was covered in coffee and Uncle. His blood soaked her hair which gathered in front of her face. Uncle looked scared. Uncle looked terrified. Uncle had tears on his cheeks.

I don’t know why they killed them. None of us even worked in the electricity plants. We weren’t insurgents. I learnt that word from the news a few days later. The government was protecting us by killing the insurgents. This is what you learn on the first day of the end of the world- insurgents are bad, soldiers are worse. I tried to call home but nobody answered. I think they are dead. 

Nobody talks about the silence. The house was still and I was afraid to make a sound in case the soldiers came back and realised they missed one. Or the insurgents, whatever they do to people like me. The electricity only came on for one hour every day. I figured out how to get the antennas to pick up a signal. The Prime Minister mades speeches everyday. He tells us to be strong and to hold fast, to brave the storm. He tells us how the rebels have shut off the electricity and cut fuel supplies. That our brave soldiers will hunt them down and free us all. Except I’ve never seen a rebel. All the shooting is done by the army. They say they are killing 100 insurgents a day but I’ve only seen innocent bodies. Like poor old Bridie.

When I was brave enough and hungry, I snuck out of the house and made my way to town through the bushes and fields. It was slow and I was petrified. All the houses and shop were boarded up except Bridie’s Café, some of the boards had fallen off. I know stealing is wrong but I have no money and I was so hungry. So I climbed in the window someone had already kicked in. There she was, little old Bridie. Her white curls matched her pale face. She was sitting on a rocking chair, still rocking in the breeze that I brought in with me. Bridie had a bullet in her head with three undrank cups of tea on the counter. She offered her murders tea.

I raided Bridie’s pantry for food but I was late to the game. Most of the good stuff had been cleared out. So I took her tea, bags and bags of tea. At least it was calories. On the way back to the house I searched every field for crops to pilfer. I found bits, mostly what the farmer overlooked during the recent harvest.

As the days past I saw images of the cities on TV. Suddenly it wasn’t just the army or the alleged insurgents to fear. People were killing each other, for food, for resourses. I saw one woman beat a child cradling a packet of Denny’s ham. I learnt pretty quickly that when they world ends you are on your own, even if you are in a city with thousands of people. 

At night I hear army trucks patrolling and I don’t sleep a wink. I lock the storage door nightly and pray that nobody kicks it down. I didn’t know what to do about Aunt, Uncle and Baby. The stench was unbearable. I’ve only gone into the dining room once since the first day, to put Baby in her parents arms. I was afraid to move them outside in case someone realises one of us survived but they were going to attract pests.

I would sneak out of the house when it gets dark and go behind their shed. I would dig for hours until I thought the hole was deep and wide enough. I started with Uncle. I couldn’t drag him past the dining room door. I found the trolley he used to unload the firewood and placed him in that. Aunt was much lighter, I placed them in the hole with Uncle’s arm around her. Finally Baby. I carried her in my arms and placed her between her parents. I cried the entire time. Each night, if I do sleep I dream of their faces. Staring at me.

I never dream of my family, I don’t need to. They are dead. Like everyone else who doesn’t answer their phone on the twentieth ring. I was alone, but not for long.

Kathy broke into the house a few weeks after The End. I thought she was a soldier. I was so scared crouched in the sitting room, far away from the safetly of my attic. She found me, as she carried a handful of valuables from the kitchen.

“Oh pet, you’re just a child.”

She stayed with me and I told her about Aunt, Uncle and Baby. She told me her husband and her ‘Sweet Precious Baby Boy Marty’ were both murdered while she was at work. Kathy took care of me. At night I heard her call for them, she cried. 

We couldn’t stay at the cottage anymore Kathy says. We had no more food and the army was setting up a station nearby. She said we were going to get on a boat and see if the rest of the world is on fire. We are on our way to the port now. I don’t know how to tell her I can’t swim.