I knew the survival chances of leaving the shelter. There was only a 15% chance that you would make it back alive. Of the 15% that make it back 90% of them die from the sickness they got out in the wasteland. Every year the council would choose a group of four to go out and explore the wasteland. I hadn’t and will never be chosen. So when Percy’s name was called despair took me.

“Percy! you can’t go!” I scream at him. He is everything.

“I don’t think I have much of choice here Beth,” he said sadly. He smiled and continued stuffing his bag.

I couldn’t help bit be angry.

“So your not upset!? Or anything!?” I was whiping my tears before I realized I was crying.

I felt his arms wrap around me.

My lip trembled.

“I’ll make you happy some other life Beth, it’s us forever.”

I hated him. And somehow loved him at the same time.

I couldn’t find a response.

I grit my teeth.

“Be careful out there.”