Post Apocalypstic Wasteland

So much war
So much death.

The screens in my bunker had shown it me all, the day I came down here I was 17, and by my count I now stand at a very old 67. My skin has begun to loosen, my sight worsen and I cant hear anything anymore, which when war is raging seems best. I had always been sure I would die by the time I was 40 but I had defeated my own expectations and although the war is still raging on outside of my pimped out bunker I can longer stand the sight of the same old 4 walls. They had been my only company for 50 years.

my knees shaking as I climb the steps, my breathing becoming a harder chore by the second. By the time I reach the door I deliberate on waiting another day and turning around and walking back down the steps but I know this is my only chance to see what it our there with my own eyes.

I push the door open, the seal of protection breaking within a second. The air barely changes and I I take my first weary step outside. The once green grass now stood yellow and weathered, the soil bumpy in random places. The air was thick with the smell of smoke yet none was visible. I circle the bunker, no building stood for a fair mile and a half and those that did were unstable.

There was no sign of life, I was truly alone. 50 years in a bunker to avoid what seems to be an endless war but now I was going to continue living in a bunker knowing I had avoided a war for no reason.

I circle the bunker one last time,sloeer than before taking in all I could before climbing back down the steps in my bunker closing the door after myself with a heavy heart and stinging eyes.