When I wake up, it’s not bright out yet, but I still feel well rested. I haven’t slept this well in days. Ever since the robots took over, life has been a struggle.

I get up and unzip the opening to the tent, pausing a moment to take in my surroundings before stepping outside into the crisp autumn air. Soon it’ll be winter, I realize. Food will be scarcer. Just another difficulty to add to my current list.

It’s been six months, I realize, since April 30th. If I could forget that day, I would. The Electronic Uprising, as it is now called, was, to say the least, an unpleasant experience. I’ve survived for half a year. All thanks to my own resourcefulness, of course. I’m always on my own.

I’ve been migrating from place to place for a while, almost like a bird. A few times, I’ve stumbled across communities, like this one. Humans are social creatures, so I guess it does make sense that they would band together. Safety in numbers, they say. I don’t stay at communities for either of those reasons, though. I’ve always been better on my own. Probably because I don’t trust people, at least not anymore. The last time I did that, it didn’t go so well. Once bitten, twice shy, I guess. Honestly, I’m not even sure if that’s what the saying means. My education was interrupted by the Uprising, so why should I?

I used to think my life was hard. Sure, my parents were lower class citizens. I didn’t live in a mansion, didn’t have the latest Chanel bag that was all the rage, didn’t have the new iPhone, didn’t have enough money to follow the short lived trends that were popular in my school. But money isn’t everything. Money doesn’t make it easier to survive a robot attack. High school now seems easy to me, compared to post-apocalyptic life.

I breathe in the cool air and gaze out into the distance. I’ll continue my journey east, towards the sun, which I use as my guide. If the rumors are true, there are less robots there.

I will begin my journey once the sun rises high enough in the sky to guide me, I decide. The thought of leaving this village caused me considerably more sadness than I had anticipated. I realize that I have grown quite attached to this small group of people. Perhaps it is because they are so determined to survive against all odds, similar to myself.

But I know I should leave. I never do cope well when I stay in one place too long. I’m nomadic at heart.

I return to my tent and begin packing my things. It doesn’t take much time, and before long, I’m ready to go.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and take a moment to enjoy the view. I probably won’t be able to see it again. A sign advertised the names of the village in big print: Lakeside. The place is named appropriately. It’s after that wooden post where the scenery really begins. A forest rings the tents on the west side, and a field of grass surrounds the north. A lake extends for what looks like forever into the distance to the south, and mountains rise up in the east. I hope that the mountains won’t provide too much of a challenge. Maybe I could take a detour around them, but I decide against it. It would take too much time away, and I didn’t want my journey to take much longer than it needed to. I am unsure of my destination, but I hope that I’ll know the right place when I see it. As I am about to start my trek, I hear a squeal from behind me.

“Trin! Play with us!”

I turn around to see a few of the community kids running up to me. I consider walking away or telling them no, and then I feel like a jerk for even thinking about it. I just wouldn’t feel right to leave without spending a little more time with them. This would give me a chance to say goodbye. I’ll stay for just a bit longer.

I set down my bag and they run around me energetically. Looking at them, it’s a marvel these three are even alive. They’re so young, and it makes my heart ache to think of how they never got to live a normal life, but instead one of grief and fear. Maybe people think that when they see me. I’m only seventeen, but I don’t feel that young anymore. I have to admit, though, these children have blossomed even in this messy world. I feel it’s my duty to make sure these children still get to be kids, despite being orphaned and living during an apocalypse

I smile and say, “What do you want to play?”

I’m twenty years old now, and I’m still at Lakeside. I couldn’t leave the kids. They don’t have their parents anymore, and I had grown quite fond of them and the little village. It’s bigger now, and I’ve even begun to let myself hope that our world is recovering. There’s talk of even merging with PurpleBrook, the nearest village.

I always wonder what would have happened if the kids hadn’t stopped me that one day I was ready to leave Lakeside. I’ve always wanted to roam, always been a wanderer at heart. Even after the apocalypse, maybe I could have fulfilled my dream of exploring. But then I think, no, these children are worth more than anything, even my old dreams.

Despite all that I’ve been through, I’m happy.