...you don't ever want to wake up again, but sadly, well...looks as if things aren't in your favor.

Adrian: "Wake up, dammit! You're not dying on us today!"

...the words echo in your mind. How can someone want to live in...this?

There's zombies and flying demon things outside. And not average “I can take 'em” zombies either, no, terrifying ones. Ones that are rotten corpses with puss leaking out of nearly every wound, red from their cells being destroyed by the sun, milky white eyes, and that will sprint at Olympic speed if they see anything move.

It doesn't really help that you're autistic, does it?

You, sadly, wake up, and you're crying again. Who wouldn't be after watching their parents, pets, and cherished items being mauled by those disgusting creatures? As you look around, you see you're in a metal, most likely fallout shelter.

Claire: "About time you got up. You gonna stop crying or what?"

Jake: "Claire, I know you have virtually no goddamn soul left, but can you shut the fuck up for once and stop being a bitch?"

...everyone looks shocked, and Claire looks extremely offended. She barely slaps him though. It's like paper. He's unamused.

Bethany sits off in the corner, watching, glad there are at least a few more people than just herself.