May I first start of with the fact that this is the first story I have ever hoped for others to read. Please leave comments as well as constructive critisism if you find something I can improve on. I hope to get this story published. Also, take in the fact that I'm only 13.

Thanks, enjoy.

Surviving The Apocalypse

Rai Con

We all knew it was coming...

Seventeen-year-old Alana and fourteen-year-old Brad Reese find themselves mixed in with the end of the world. War rages around them, and they believe they might be the last ones. They are running low on supplies and the demons just keep coming. Accompanied by a few stray neighbors, and close friends, they enter the fight for their lives, but will they come out prosperous, or die trying?

Preface

Three Years Earlier:

Mom was sitting at the faded oak kitchen table reading the Sunday newspaper. Her long, smooth, milk chocolate hair was pulled back into a sloppy braid that ran down the back of her fuchsia bath robe she had gotten for her birthday in April. Her thin rimmed glasses drooped to edge of her nose, and threatened to fall off. Thin, wispy lines of gray were beginning to appear again in her mop of wavy brown hair. She needed to dye it again, desperately bad. Her hair had once been this color; the silky chocolate brown, but was now tainted with the grays that came with old age and stress. Her back was straight and erect, firmly pushed up against the back of the chair in which she sat. Her hands flipped through the pages of her newspaper. A cup of pipping hot coffee sat on the table just to her left. Steam billowed up from the espresso drink. Again, probably in her haste to read the article about Father that was supposed to be on the front page today, she had, yet another time, forgotten to use a coaster. There would surely be a coffee ring in grated into the table's already worn surface.

Careful not to frighten her, I rapped on the wall. Her eyes looked up from the paper, and she smiled at me. Her smile was weak, withered, cracked, tired. I could see that, behind her glasses, there was pain, and worry in her once beautiful green eyes. The creases on her forehead and her cheeks looked extremely deep, and full of sorrow. She looked ready to crack. At any moment she might burst out crying, screaming, or even laughing. Either way, it wouldn't be a pretty sight.

"Good morning, Alana." Mom said in a hushed voice.

I decided to try and avoid another conversation about "my feelings", that would eventually end with her spilling her guts out to me, and crying on my shoulder.

I pranced quickly over to the cabinet, turning my back towards my mother. I got out a cereal box, choosing randomly, not really caring what variety my hand happened to grasp. Today looked like Fruit Loops, which was okay with me. I got down a bowl, and a spoon as well. Once I had poured my cereal, I retrieved the milk. With my back still to my mother, I paused. I heard someone stirring upstairs. It was Brad, my younger brother. I glanced at the clock. 10:00pm. That must be a record for him, I thought, and plopped a bite into my mouth.

After the third bite of Fruit Loops, Brad's heavy, trudging feet began their journey down the twenty-three stairs on our luxurious winding staircase. After the fifth bite, Brad had made it down the stairs, and his feet plopped loudly onto the wooden floor of the foyer. Finally, after seven bites, Brad leisurely made his way into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway to wave at Mom.

Brad looked terrible. His eyes were blood shot from a lack of sleep, and his grayish eyelids drooped heavily from exhaustion. His face was as pale as the snow at the tips of the Rockies, and looking just as dangerous. He seemed as if one little thing could set him off. He was wearing his flannel, plaid, red and black PJ pants. A black shirt that said Black Eyed Peas in white, bold lettering reeked of his colon. His hair, my God! It was twisted and distorted as if a small rodent had decided to take residence there. His brow furrowed as he saw me examining him.

Absentmindedly, I compared our hair color. His was dark brown, much darker than Mother's, but still much lighter than mine. Mine was midnight black, and glossy. I got it from my father. Supposedly.

"What are you looking at Lana?" Brad questioned angrily, hatred singeing his tone.

I turned swiftly away. Brad was angry. He had a right to be. A lot of things had happened lately, and none of them happy. My father, CEO of Herrick Agencies, had just divorced my mother. Despite our constant efforts to prove that our mother was incapable of taking care of herself more or less two children, the judge assigned my mother as our legal guardian. The judge had said that "it would be bad for business", and, "it won't look to good on your Father's reputation". Yeah. That will make you a little mad. Finding out that your father won't take you in because it puts a downer on his rep? Does "two children" look bad on your application nowadays?

That wasn't the only thing either. After Father left Mom, Mom became a little... weird. She started being obsessed with Father. Finding out anything she could about where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. It was getting out of hand. We tried to convince her to see a specialist, but she'd refuse. That's when she started pouring her heart out to me. It went downhill from there.

It's been three months now, that we've had to put up with Mom's chaotic mental situation, and it was wearing us down. Brad especially. He had taken a lot harder hit, considering he's only eleven. I'm fourteen, and it is still tough on me. I've been taking care of Brad for a while now, since Mom, well, can't. I've also taken on the job of supplying income to the family, and cleaning, cooking, bills, and everything else my Mom should be doing.

Brad trudged across the kitchen, grabbed a package of Poptarts off the counter, and stormed back out of the kitchen. I sighed, and rested my head on one of the kitchen cabinets. A groan escaped my lips, and I tried to choke it down. Mom got up, leaving her newspaper and coffee on the table, and went outside to meditate in the dew covered grass of the early morning. I ate the rest of my cereal in silence.