Ztrailerstherefugeeshelter



It’s been four months since we’ve come here. ‘Here’ is a set of trailers. They used to be used for a high school, but the government canceled school after The Event. The trailers have now been overgrown with trees and ivy; they have been broken into and looted for food and medicine. The windows were blown out, the wood is rotten. It’s a pretty crappy place to live, but it’s one of the only places that wasn’t destroyed. The cafeteria trailer is being used for the sleeping quarters. Everyone is asleep now around the fire in the middle of the floor, except for me and the two men that are on guard. It’s too creepy to sleep. I’ve hardly slept since I’ve been here. I mostly just watch the guards. One sits on the porch, a small gun in his hand. He scans the deserted parking lot. The other guard sits at a window across the room. The sharpened stick he holds softly falls to the floor as he dozes off. A sharp crack jolts him awake. He leaps to his feet and scrambles for his weapon. “What is it, Robert?” whispers the guard on the porch. “Nothing, Marty, I just startled myself.” Robert replied. Both guards sit back down at their posts. CRACK. Robert jumps up and goes to the porch to stand next to Marty. “Do you see anything?” asked Marty. They both examine the parking lot, ready for an attack. We’ve had two attacks since we’ve been here. The trailers are valuable. They provide good shelter and the cafeteria is still stocked with food from when it was used as a school. Many people come to the trailers and we let them in. There are seventeen of us so far, eleven adults, six men and five women, and six children. We’re all survivors of the Event. My Aunt June and I started living here first with two of our neighbors, but slowly more and more people have come in search of shelter. Not everyone is lucky enough to find shelter, though. The unlucky ones usually join gangs. These gangs steal and occasionally murder. The two attacks that our trailers have gone through were by gangs. But we were fortunate enough to be able to fight them off. The two guards are still standing at the porch. Curious about what’s going on, I shimmy out of my sleeping bag and go to stand with them. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “You should be asleep.” Marty says. I shrug and say, “I can’t.” They both nod. I often get up and stand with whoever’s on guard. Robert goes back to stand at the window. I lean on the rotting porch rail and stare up at the sky. The stars are bright and glittery. I look at them every night. My father taught me the names of the constellations. I locate each one and say their names softly. The stars are the only things that haven’t changed since The Event. CRACK. I jump. Robert comes running on to the porch, a panicked look on his face. “There are people out there!” he shouts. “They’re surrounding the trailers; it has to be another attack!” “Go sound the alarm, Sophie!” says Marty. I run into the trailer and pick up the pots. We found them in the kitchen and they make quite a noise when banged together. It’s a perfect alarm. “Wake up, wake up!” I shout, slamming the pots together as hard as I can. People scramble out of their sleeping bags. The adults grab for their weapons. The older kids and I round up the younger children and take them to the kitchen. The kitchen has a back entrance that is surrounded by trees and overgrowth, so you can’t see people leaving it. Backpacks full of food and water are lined up by the door. We take the backpacks and head to an old machine shop that’s nearby. This is where we take refuge during attacks. An adult will come get us when it’s over. The group gets to the machine shop. I sit them down in a corner of the room and make sure everyone is here. Then I sit down too. We huddle together, the older kids reassuring the younger ones, holding their hands, and trying to calm them as we hear screams and shouts coming from the trailers. Several shots are fired. Then silence