May 3rd, 2066

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The last thing my mother and I heard about the outside world was that there had been declarations of war. That was over a week ago. I'm not sure how long it takes for a war to truly begin, but I suspect that a week is enough time for something to happen. Waiting to learn what's been going on is killing me, but I know it's best that my mother and I stay put, for now.

Tomorrow night, she'll finally get out of the bunker.

I know I complain about this bunker a lot, but I'm actually extremely grateful for it. This small, cramped, dull space has already saved my life. I'm glad that my dad built it before he was drafted.

Dad, if you're ever able to read this, I'm sorry for complaining about the bunker so much. I'm glad it's here, I just wish you'd made it a bit larger.

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