This is my entry for the 
's 31 Sentences contest, round 18.
Day 190; my brother and I were lucky. It has been more than six months since we were allowed to be part of this underground shelter away from the plague.
There's no contact with the outside. We've been told that until we're out of danger, doors won’t open. Thanks to a group of scientists who foresaw this situation, this shelter was built and I wonder if there's more?
Day 220, unfortunately, no one thought to bring cigarettes or even alcoholic beverages to this moralistic shelter and I am literally dying for a good smoke. This makes me think: Did we join some post-apocalyptic religious cult?
Day 300, what will happen if we’re the only ones left in earth. It's unfortunate that communications have been damaged or at least that's what we've been led to believe, certainly there must be more shelters like this; are we only 150 people left?
I find myself having to record my crazy thoughts and everything that happens around me, undoubtedly it's a good alternative to keep me distracted; fortunately, we have enough food. Luckily!
Our lives could be sustained for at least 10 years, or so our caretakers claim but I don't think we are sane enough to last this long. Happily, my brother is a child and they tend to adapt and even get distracted by literally anything.
Day 455, I am tired of seeing the same walls. The water tastes like rust. The food begins to feel so tasteless to me, like sand. It's suffocating this confinement, I wish I could see the sun, the beach, feel the fresh morning breeze on my face, I really wish I could even see a tree.
Day 500, one person has begun to spread the rumor that the virus no longer exists and we are confined to these walls. I begin to realize that he’s not the only one who thinks this; surely, we are victims of some fatalistic self-centered maniac religious cult’s chief.
Day 600, tomorrow will be the day we reveal ourselves against the leaders who control the shelter and, finally, freedom.
Day 603, the fight took a couple of hours, we usually are beings of habit and that was their biggest mistake. The plan was carried out perfectly and control was taken without any loss of life.
Perhaps the most difficult thing was to break the hard locks that prevented us from letting us go outside; regrettably, to our surprise, the leaders were not lying. All humanity has been totally wiped off the planet by the effect of the virus' mutations.
We were wrong. We couldn’t repent and turn back, plague wasn't over.
I hope anyone manages to read this diary and I hope they won’t make the same mistake we did since our fate was sealed.
The alien ripped out the last page of the notebook and wiped his ass. He threw the covers of the notebook away and reassembled his spaceship leaving without further ado.
The end.
If you want to participate in this contest go to:
@tristancarax/the-31-sentence-contest-round-18
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