Thirty eight years it had been. She first went into the shelter in 1959. Most by this time had died or fallen into a deep depression, only some seemed happy, and those were the "selfish" ones who had children. They were shunned, because children needed food. The idea was to keep everyone as healthy as possible, as long as possible, until the radiation had dissipated enough. That didn't make much sense to India. How would civilization carry on if all of the women were too old to bare children once they could leave this life sustaining shell of a place?
The whole time there was always a debate going with regards to when it would be safe to "come out." Some of the poor fools thought that it would only take a week or so. On this day in 1997 India found their skeltons not far from the outer entrance. She stepped out onto the earth, to see the sky that she had not seen since she was 22. She threw her helmet into the nearby trash can, not caring about the possible remiaing radiation. She couldn't see a thing, and had decided that another year of life in that capsule downstairs would not be worth living. Looking at the desolate, destroyed rubble around her, a billboard on the side of the building caught her eye. She stared into the eyes of her 19 year old self, a painful and shocking reminder of what life will never be again.
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