I don’t remember much just the anxiety and fear on my parent’s faces. The hushed and whispered conversations they had in the kitchen when they thought my brother and I were not listening. I remember them moving things into the basement. Soon we would be locked away and the world would change forever.

It was a world war to end all wars they said. It turned out to be the war to end worlds. We were the first to be bombed. When we retaliated, it was a big fight between countries about what to do and whose side to be on. Communication broke down, so I hear and left nothing to keep the countries in check. Bombs were flying in every direction. Our worst nightmares had come true. This is only what I have heard. There are no more histories being written, no books diagramming strategies of war. No one really cares much except when telling stories.

No one knew how long it could have lasted. Predictions ranged from a year to 10 years. They called it nuclear winter. I can say with confidence that it has been dim most of my childhood. While not an actual winter, it doesn’t get hot here anymore. The sun is like a shaded light in the sky. We lived in our basement for years it felt like. The door locked and our water and food with us. Sometimes we heard movement upstairs but we would stay quiet and Dad would stand at the door with a gun. We saw the sunlight dim through the tiny windows. Soon we grew cold and hungry. We left the shelter of home. The rich had begun to hoard resources from the start. They were able to set themselves up as kings. We became a population enslaved we just wanted to survive.

I was still a child when the men had come to take my brother and me. We were put into a truck and taken far away. He held me close and wiped my tears. We were sold for food and gas rations. I wondered many a long night what our parents had sold us for. Did they get food? My brother was sold to a place far from home. He had fought them and screamed my name over and over, as we pulled away. I could hear the other children whimper in fear. I would go farther still into the creeping wilderness. I watched the trees, mostly dead now; grow thicker, until we reached what looked more like a heavily walled estate than a city. They bought me for food only; I was too scrawny to be worth gasoline.

I remember when I first saw The Lady, The Master, and their Son. They looked so mean to a young girl’s eye. My life was changing again. I was old enough to work in the greenhouse. I loved it immediately. I got to be dirty and see my work pay off. It was a wonderful reality I had settled into. No one bothered me, I had two meals a day, and fresh bathwater every two weeks. My work was very much like play. I slept in the same room as my Mother Guardian and she taught me all I knew. Sometimes at night, I would hear the older women say there would be no more children because none of the girls had started their courses.

Sometimes I dreamed about a world with no children. No laughter and no play. It felt very much how I lived. No sunshine and no laughter. Just a smile every now and then, but everything felt sad and useless. We were only surviving until the cruelty of our lives ended. I took refuge in the life I helped to grow. The seeds I fostered into life. I hoped that my life would always be with the plants.

When my body started changing my Mother Guardian taught me to smear fertilizer on myself to avoid attention from the soldiers who worked in the compound. I wore baggier clothes, in an effort not to show budding curves. She said that the men here were sick and liked a child’s growing body.

I tried to hold on to my name. I thought I could hold on to that one secret. Hold it close to me and keep it safe. It became unimportant. Months and years meant nothing to me anymore; because this was all I would ever have … the passing of time without mark or measure.

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