So this is a school final project for one of my classes, and it has to be 40 pages long. I’m not going to post all of it though, because that would be wayyy too long.. Let me know if you would like to read the entire thing!



“The nuclear war has commenced. World War 3 has begun again.” This was all the old man could piece together from the sounds crackling over the radio. He hugged the radio closer to his chest, listening to the names of the dead list being recounted.  “Claire Bennet,” the last name to be called before it went silent. Oh, the pain racked through his body as the dreaded pink cough did through the children surrounding him. The confirmed death of his daughter was worse, so much worse than in those stupid, stupid visions.



His daughter was, rather had been, the kindest, sweetest, most caring person. She had also been one of the original engineer/scientists who created Tyche. Claire had two children, twins, who were among the crowd surrounding him. Fortunately they would both survive the coming attacks..

In a fit of rage and despair, he threw the radio against the steel wall of the bunker. All of the children looked up, shocked, terrified, and hopeless. Their parents were all out there, fighting for a spot in Tyche, the spaceship designed to take no more than 7,000 people to the planet Fortuna. The old man took one last second to gather himself, and then called out to the juniors in the room. All were over the age of 10, but younger than 20, so not allowed to fight.

The bunker was small, solid steel walls with three specially designed air purifiers decorating the room. Military style beds lined the walls, hard, cold mattresses layered them, and each had a warmth conserving blanket laid haphazardly across the beds. At such a time, not many were interested in being neat.

For some, even such a small thing as cleaning their beds reminded them of the “good old days”, when life was structured, and exactly as it should be. The old man thought that this approach to the situation was absolutely ignorant of any who had this opinion. Had it really been any better to live in fear of a nuclear war, constantly watching for any sign of violence, than to actually be in one?

He glanced around the room, taking in the tear-stained faces, the grim ones, and the rare number of the angry. His eyes landed on each, heart heavy with what he knew the prospect of death would lure them to do. Tears built up in his eyes as he stared at each of the ones he knew were going to die after his story. The old man’s gaze skipped to Henri, but he immediately ripped it away, not being able to even think of the burden that would soon be placed on the 17 year old. As much tragedy as the old man had undergone, it was nothing compared to what the survivors of the nuclear war would be forced to go through.

        Slowly, lethargically, weighed down by immense sorrow of the death of loved ones, the teens joined him in the center of the room, some annoyed, some grateful for the distraction.

“As you may have realized, nuclear war has begun, we are in World War 3.  I am going to tell you a story, a story of what will happen once you get onto that spaceship. It is called Tyche, after the Greek god of fortune, and the planet you will hypothetically be traveling to is named Fortuna, after the Greek goddess of fortune.”  Here, the old man was cut off.

“We know all this, genius.” said one of the audience.

“I have just received confirmation that my daughter died during the bombings; I am not in the mood to deal with sassy teenagers, Henri.” His icy gray eye shot Henri, (the speaker) a piercing glare. The old man used anger and pain to hide the utter sadness he truly felt for Henri.

Henri ducked his head away, ashamed, yet annoyed at the implication that he had not experienced tragedy in his life before. At the age of 12, 5 years ago, his mother had died, right before his eyes. She had not died in any heroic way, one for a child to be proud of. No, no his prideful mother’s poor liver had given out because of too much drink. At that age, Henri had refused to believe it, but know was resigned to the knowledge that his mother had been a drunk. Unbeknownst to Henri, his slightly more heroic father had died moments ago, fighting for a spot into Tyche for his kids.

Henri and his little sister had confirmed passage onto Tyche, because of the fact they were now orphans. The people who created Tyche had wanted young children and teenagers to be aboard the ship, since the trip to Fortuna would age them. Deciding to ignore the old man’s bait, Henri folded his thoughts back, not wanting to be called out and be the center of attention.

“I am going to tell you a story.” The old man continued as if nothing had happened.

“It is about what will happen once you reach Fortuna. Remember, you are luckier than you could imagine. You children, in this tiny corner of the United States, Maine, have been chosen, granted in part, to live, to succeed the entirety of life as we know it on Earth.”

“You might think it would be better to die with your family, than alone in some strange planet, but you know nothing. Every single time, humans choose life, if it is possible to achieve without sacrificing their family and friends. History has proven this over and over again, and will continue to show this basic rule in the future. I need you to listen, and understand, and remember this story, or all will be lost for the human race.”


Here the old man paused, needing a moment before he gave way to the reality of his visions. He looked around, once again. Staring up at him were one hundred pale, drawn, tear-stained faces. All showed the same emotions of fear and nervousness, but paid rapt attention. Pain ripped through him at the thought of how only fifty-three would survive. Barely more than half would live to see another day, and suddenly the old man felt a surge of anger at the two who had technically started the death of so many. This was it, the moment in which his duty to the Earth would start and the beginning of when he could finally rest.