ONE LIFE IN VAULT 3
A young woman's perspective before and after the Great War. One-Shot.
In her mind, the days before 23 Oct 2077 become known as the Before Time.
Olive Matsui remembers the Before Time as a series of mental photographs, each strangely vivid against the surrounding blurred background of her brain's recollection:
The Soldiers. Clad in that bulky, intimidating-looking Power Armor and somehow staring at all of them beneath their helmets. Only once did she witness a protest against them: the man had been immediately shot. She never once considered questioning them after that. "Keep moving" was how they said hello. She was glad they were gone now.
The Radiation King, in glorious black and white. It was the common denominator between all the family members, their shining electric light of communal connection. Watching television with her mother and father is the predominant memory, but sometimes the nightmares of their atomic vaporization creep in. How could something she did not witness be so clear in her mind's eye?
The Sirens of the 23rd. She was in her dormitory at the Vegas Institute of Technology, getting ready for a relaxing weekend day when she heard that horrible wail. She wasted no time, and those frightening soldiers confirmed her admission status into Vault 3.
-oliv3-
A memory:
"You MUST be on the approved list or you will not be admitted to Vault 3!"
Pandemonium, desperation outside the Vault as people frantically try to convince the soldiers that they are on the approved list. She makes her way to the front.
"Olive Matsui, Vegas Institute of Technology."
"Clear. Go on in."
Outrage and anger from the crowd, which she does her best to ignore. One of her greatest regrets in life will be looking back at the crowd as the vault door closes: the hatred and desperation in their eyes will haunt her dreams until she dies.
-oliv3-
Absence makes the sun grow brighter.
Olive stared at the sentence that she had just written into her journal.
Vault-Tec encouraged all Vault-Dwellers to keep a personal journal in order to ensure their mental well-being. She had scoffed at the idea at first, but had gradually come to depend on it more and more over the years. Now she never went a day without recording her thoughts.
And this thought, this one thought of the thing she could not have, tormented her still.
She continued to write:
I can get used to the changes in life. Everything is more communal, more oriented toward the greater good, but that makes sense. We all have to stick together if we want Vault 3 to survive. Being a teacher is challenging but rewarding.
It's the sun that I miss the most. Why can't we see it again? The simulations just aren't the same. The children, the youngest ones, they don't even understand what it feels like to bask under its glow.
I miss the sun.
I miss the sun-
She sighed, put down her pen, and rose to get dressed for the day.
Sunlight was a precious commodity, now lost forever. But even more precious a commodity was life itself, sustained by the artificial sun of Vault-Tec. Vault 3 would survive and thrive, at least for awhile.
And slowly, Olive Matsui would accept that she would never see the sun again.
-oliv3-
A/N: The Vegas Institute of Technology is a fictional satellite campus of MIT. A disproportionate number of Vault 3 dwellers came from the VIT, explaining both the Vault's longevity and its naïveté when dealing with outsiders. There weren't a whole lot of military veterans studying at the VIT on the day of the Great War; most were deployed to cities to quell unrest.
You might see more of these vignettes for a bit. I have a REALLY important story I'm working on and I find these one-shots are a good way to meet my self-imposed daily quota in the meantime.