I was 17 when World War 7 started. It was 3:21am when the bombing raids had begun. The Supersonic-Jets shot through the sky, hardly visible, but the unmistakable noise was terrifying without having to see them. The first explosions were far off, my mother and father ran into my room terrified. They’d done this before, many times, but this time was different, they were so desperate to get out. Mum opened our family’s virtual locker and threw my belongings in. Inside I could see mum and dad’s stuff piled in. We ran out the door, all the time the booming of bombs getting closer, and the ground shaking more and more, the glass in our house cracked and rattled in their frames, the car was just outside, but the bombs were too close, we couldn't risk running outside now.
The heat from the explosions was leaking in through the shattered windows. The explosions were so close now, I couldn't hear my parents yelling voices above the sound coming form outside. Dad pulled us down the corridor towards the kitchen, where the freezer was located.
Why a freezer? This freezer doubled as a bomb shelter, we had it installed for times like this.
We were just about in the kitchen when the world exploded around us. The walls ripped away and the tiles disintegrated, with the little time we had mum pushed me into a cupboard, and the door smashed shut. The heat was intense, the world was deafening.
The last thing I remember was the roof of the cupboard collapsing in on me, the world disappeared from my grip.
