We waited for someone to contact us. Sitting in the dark cellar was, I knew, not as scary as it probably looked outside.

They said that we’d be safe.

That was why they built the wall, wasn’t it?

There was no more noise, and we had to guess about what was going on outside. We didn’t have much food stored down here; mostly things that would have to be cooked anyways. Eventually, we walked up the stairs and into our home.

The cellar, deep in the ground, was unaffected by the explosions from above. The house, on the other hand, was completely destroyed.

Nothing.

Just a wasteland, with random planks of wood and stone where our home used to be. Ash filled the air everywhere.

We stepped out into the street. Only a few of our neighbors were outside, and they were staring at the wreckage along with us.

At the end of the road, I looked around myself, confused. The road usually stopped at the wall, going no further.

Now, the road continued in the direction away from me. There was no wall to end it.