May 5th, 2066

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My mother just came back from leaving the bunker. She says our home has been ransacked and is in such a state that it makes the bunker look cozy and inviting. Windows are shattered, cupboards are emptied, and doors are off their hinges. There are splatters of blood, but no bodies.

Our utilities and services have all been terminated, likely at the government's request as we are now officially fugitives. This means we can't watch the news, but my mother did converse with a sympathetic neighbor (at least, one I hope is sympathetic enough not to turn us in). The neighbor wasn't able to go into much detail, unfortunately. She simply said that things are "Bad, very bad."

The neighbor invited mother and I over for dinner, tomorrow. My mother knows how stressed out I am about being in this tight space for so long, so she said we'll come by if the neighborhood is still relatively safe come tomorrow evening.

I'm eager to finally have a warm, canless meal.

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