TITLE: THE OTHER LIFE
GENRE: Post-apocalyptic YA
3 years, 1 month, 1 week and 6 days since I'd seen daylight.
Almost one-fifth of my life.
"We're running out of food," Dad said as he rummaged through our pantry. His forehead was creased in worry and there was this expression on his face that didn't bode well. I'd seen it countless times lately.
Please not another fight.
Mom looked up from the floor in our improvised kitchen and stopped mopping. Her unwashed, blond hair hung limply down her shoulders and back. "What are you talking about? We should have food for at least eight months left." She wiped her hands on her flowery apron - exactly eighty-nine flowers, I'd counted them several times. And they were hideous flowers, let me tell you.
She stepped into the pantry.
Here it comes.
I stifled a sigh and tried to ignore them. As if that was possible! They didn't even try to be silent most of the times.
1139 days since I'd heard the chatter of my friends, since I'd seen the sky.
Her hands on her hips, Mom glared at Dad, her brows creating a solid line in her rising anger. "We've stocked food for four years. You said so yourself."
Dad sighed as he slumped against one of the shelves in the pantry, running a hand through his short, red hair. "We must have calculated the rations wrongly. Maybe we ate more than we should have."
It always began like that: accusations and denial followed by screaming, then crying.