the sanderson apocalypse chapter 2

The Sanderson Apocalypse – Chapter 2In the prologue and the first chapter, Katheleen Sanderson,

granddaughter of the apocalypse founder Michelle Sanderson, found her grandmother’s diary and began to read it aloud to anyone willing to hear. Katheleen learned of how Michelle and her husband Ethan

began rebuilding society through bringing back hope, law and medicine to the land. Katheleen also learned that her grandmother

could hear the voice of the creator and wondered if her mother could too being the heir to her grandmother’s legacy.

This chapter is told mostly from Nadia Sanderson’s POV.

Katheleen walked down to the kitchen as she held baby Lawrence to find her mother feeding his twin, Fiona. Both children had only been born only a few

hours ago and already they were demanding to be fed. Sleeping, eating poop machines was a better name for the twins.

But Katheleen didn’t come down to feed Lawrence. She needed to speak to Nadia, her mother, immediately after reading her grandmother’s diary.

“Oh, hello dear, I’m just giving Fiona a bottle before I put her down to sleep. Would you like me to help you with Lawrence?”

“No, mom, but I do need some help with something else.”

“Oh?”

“Well, spit it out,” Nadia chuckled at her youngest daughter.

“I read grandma’s diary.”

“My mother kept a diary?”

“Yes, mom, and I need to ask you a few questions. Do you remember the day that grandma stopped being able to hear the Creator?”

Nadia was silent for a moment and then she spoke softly, “You know that that was all in her head.”

“No, mom, I don’t. And I don’t think you believe it either.”

Nadia looked away before she pointed Fiona’s bottle toward the staircase.

“Let’s put the twins to bed and I’ll talk to you in the living room.”

It took all of ten minutes for the twins to fall asleep and receive their goodnight kisses from mommy and grandma before Nadia pulled her daughter aside to

speak.

“So what do you want to know, dear?”

“I want to know everything, mom.”

“Well, you can never know everything in the entire world-“

“You know what I meant. I want to know everything that happened after grandma’s diary ended right up until Christine and I were teenagers.”

Nadia sighed, “Alright, dear. But you should know that this is a long story, much longer than grandma’s diary.”

“I still want to hear it.”

Alright, I’m going to begin the story from the night after my mother’s… incident. With my father at work continuing to provide medical care to those who sought it, I was left in charge of the house. I prepared the Instant Meal, cleaned the toilets

and repaired the showers all so that my mother could take it easy.

“Clark, hurry up. The bus isn’t going to wait forever,” I said to my brother.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I even took care of my siblings and made sure that they did their homework. Sure, I’m a Romance Sim, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop loving my family.

When my brothers had left for school, I felt that it was the best chance I had to talk with my mother about what had happened the previous night.

“Mom, I just want to say that-“

“I don’t want to talk to you, Nadia.”

“Mother!”

“Oh, don’t you ‘mother’ me, young lady. I still can’t believe that you don’t believe me about the Creator.”

“But he- it- doesn’t exist, mom.”

“Just because you can’t hear him doesn’t make him any more real. Back in my time, Sims often heard the voices of their Creators speaking to them, guiding

them.”

“I… mom, please listen.”

My mother walked into the bathroom and began to scrub down the floor. I could hear her whisper things through the paper thin walls about how I was such an

arrogant, pig-headed brat who didn’t deserve to be her heir.

Katheleen, please understand that, at the time, I only wanted what I thought was best for her. I loved my mother very much and didn’t want to see her get hurt. I

felt so convicted over what I had said. Who was I to judge what my mother believed? I was just a seventeen year old girl at the time trying to act like I was

in my thirties.

My mother and I didn’t talk for the longest time. Well, I tried to but she kept walking away, simply ignoring me as much as she could. Even on Clark’s

thirteenth birthday she refused to talk to me. When he told everyone that he was interested in money and popularity, my mother smiled and told everyone she could that “it’s at least better than romance and pretending to care about your

family.”

It was obvious that she was directing that comment toward me without directly acknowledging my existence. I remember running into the bathroom while

everyone congratulated Clark and sobbing for a good half hour. At that point my mother hated my guts and wasn’t too shy to keep it to herself.

When Clark decided that it was time to start learning the base skills for the politics career, my mother spent her time nurturing Steven. At no point did she

attempt to help him with his homework though. She felt that the best way to nurture him was to keep him company. Steven appreciated the time he had with our mother as it gave him a chance to get to know her beyond the woman that stayed home in her pajamas watching the walls, hoping for a chance to her that

voice again.

“Mom, what are you thinking about?” I remember hearing him asking her from downstairs in the kitchen.

“Life,” she replied gracefully, “and how it’s always passing us by because of work and all the other things we need to do. We never have any time to ourselves.”

Steven grinned down at his worksheets, “Mom, when I grow up, I want to fix that.”

“Good for you, Stevey. I’m very proud of you.”

I’m fairly sure that was the day that Steven chose to be the member of our family that would master the slacker career. By spending time with mom, he realized that life was meant to be spent with those you love and the things that you love

rather than in a constant state of work related stress.

It also can explain why, when Steven turned thirteen, he decided that he would dedicate life to, firstly, having a family and, secondly, grilled cheese. I don’t know

what it was about that food that he loved so much. I mean, it was the easiest possible thing for me to make, besides cereal and instant meal. I guess he just

felt like it was a symbol for family unity; the gooey, cheesy middle is the love that pulls the two slices of bread together.

Or at least, that’s what he told me when I asked him about it. I could tell from looking in his eyes that he was burdened knowing that my mother and I were

refusing to speak to each other. Maybe the real reason he eventually became a professional party guest was to have the ability to leave home for a while to

forget what was going on between his loved ones.

Skipping ahead five years, it was my 28th birthday and my father’s 60th. Dad had always looked young for his age, but soon that youth would be drained out of him

by the sands of time. As for me, this meant the first step in my life as an adult. One of the laws that my mother had allowed to be passed years ago stated that you must be at least 28 to begin working in the apocalypse because your body was still growing due to radiation. I’m glad it was put in effect because it gave

me and my brothers more time to learn our necessary skills.

My father and I grew into, well, not the most tasteful clothing we could scrounge up. You’re very lucky, Katheleen, to have always had an eye for fashion. Ever

since you were a baby you’re clothing has suited you quite well.

I began work at the lowest of the lows: a fast food restaurant down the street. You’d be surprised to know how well preserved that food is. That’s probably the only thing I could stand to have learned from there. Just a little tip; make sure

you don’t make people mad who control your food. It can end badly.

While I worked there, I met this young man by the name of Waylon Menon. He seemed like a nice enough man, so I invited him back home in hopes of, well,

woohooing him. When my advances were rejected I....

… had a bit of a mental breakdown. Nothing too bad; I just needed to recollect my thoughts and self-esteem.

As I progressed through the culinary career, I eventually became a waitress and started a friendship with one of my customers. His name was Bruce Rauscer. As soon as I met him, I knew that this was fate. He and I were meant for each

other.

And I knew he felt the same way. He and I were in love and it was beautiful. You know, Katheleen, I’m very glad your father and I had met. If we hadn’t, I don’t know how I would have ever felt courageous enough to stay the heir. At that point, I was sure that my mother wanted Steven to take my place, but I felt

as though it was better left as my duty.

When your father moved in, he took a job as a cement mixer in a quarry. It was boring work, but he wanted to do his part to help our family succeed in our

mission.

During our first year together, your father and I were… well, we were like any normal couple in their first year together, if you catch my drift. Oh, don’t give me that look; we were young once, too. In fact, we still act like we’re in our twenties

from time to time.

But by then, I was sure that your father was the one for me. I loved him, and to this day still love him. On the night of our one year anniversary, I proposed to

him in our living room. When he said yes, my heart raced with excitement.

He and I were married the exact same night that we were engaged. Neither of us felt that a big ceremony would do much good. I mean, who could we invite? My mother still had yet to talk to me and my father and brothers were asleep.

Bruce didn’t have a family of his own, so they were out of the question. It didn’t matter because either way we had each other.

And your older sister. It was a big surprise when I learned that I was with child. I wasn’t given that many days of the week off, so I was forced to stay at work while

I was pregnant.

Christine was born late at night as I was about to head off to sleep to be ready for work. When I looked at her as a small, innocent baby, my heart melted. She

had my skin and hair and your father’s eyes. She was the most beautiful child I had ever seen- well, yes, you were beautiful, too. You both are still my two

beautiful daughters, Katheleen.

I set your sister down in the crib closest to my sleeping mother. I wondered if this was how she felt when I was born, full of pure and never-ending love. I

wondered if she would ever feel this again toward me, if I even deserved it.

About four months after your sister was born, I had reached the level of restaurateur in my career. I had been asked to sample from some of the finest

dishes that any Sim could make. Thinking of the delicacies, I had seen, my mouth watered in hopes that my family would be able to experience the same. My goal had nearly become a reality, and nothing was going to stop me from

reaching it.

Eight months later, my goal was complete. I had become a world-renowned chef and had managed to discover a way to preserve food despite the radiation. To think that all it took was remembering my years as a fast food cook and how the

fries were preserved.

With an abundance of food, I managed to create a feast for our and another other family on SimEarth.

But that didn’t mean that my mother had started to talk to me again. By the time that Christine had become a toddler, I had yet to hear a word come out of her mouth that was directed at me. What I wouldn’t have given to be in Chrisy’s

position, to have no clue the estranged relationship between her mommy and nana.

And even at Clark’s birthday, a few months later, my mother was still refusing to speak to me. She congratulated Clark and then went up to her bed with a piece

of cake on a paper plate. I watched as she left in hopes that she would have said something to me about how great the cake was- I had made it myself. But

no words left her mouth as she went up those stairs.

The next morning, Clark found himself a job as campaign worker. Compared to how I started, the pay was magnificent. Although, of course, he is a fortune Sim, so he probably knew beforehand that the pay in the political career would be one

of the best.

As the years went by, I was able to spend my days off teaching your older sister how to talk, walk and use the toilet. Many things in our house were moving by

quickly when you and your sister were quite a bit younger.

Your father reached the top of the architectural career and eventually became a city planner. With the research and designs he was able to get his hands on, he

rediscovered how to mass-produce drywall and other building supplies.

In our home, it meant that we could finally turn those dusty old walls into works of art. Sure, they didn’t look perfect, but they still were painted well enough that we

could take pride in our abode.

Your father’s work also helped us rebuild the structure of our home as we now had enough supplies to finish the work.

It gave us a chance to see those mysterious objects once more that we feared touching. Not one member of our house has done more than place the object

they received up in the attic. You should know that, too, as you recently placed that bookcase that you found inside a decrepit university up there.

But not everything in our home was going that wonderfully. Steven’s mind began to wander as he worked away, eventually causing a fire in our kitchen.

We were lucky that your father knew how to put it out, or else our family would have been in real trouble. My mother told Steven that it didn’t matter what he

did, she stilled loved him. I’m sure by now you realize how hearing that affected me.

With his career mastered, your father began to spend more time looking after Christine. Your sister loved the attention she received from him and adored the

time she got to spend with her father.

But my mother didn’t like it. She felt that Bruce was a horrible choice of husband and that he had wasted his time on his career instead of looking after his family.

My mother would often pick fist fights with your father. I tended to stay away from most of the fights. I knew this wasn’t about her opinion of Bruce, but rather

it was about me and my life choices.

As more time passed, the family grew older. Steven was closer to getting all his necessary skills for the slacker career…

… my parents began to enjoy their last few years together…

…and I found out that I was pregnant with you.

Christine was overjoyed to hear the news that she would be a big sister. Every time I took her out of her crib, she would demand that she get the chance to play with you. I did the best I could to appease her wish and I’m sure it’s why you and

your sister have always been close.

As Clark moved up the politics career, he met a young woman by the name of Christy Stratton and instantly the two fell in love. Clark knew that she would be

able to move into the family home, so he invited her over as often as possible so that they could pursue their relationship.

Now, this new love interest of Clark came about only a few months before Christine became a child and started attending public school. The first thing on your sister’s mind was that she would be able to make all sorts of friends. This

became quite clear when, on the night before her first day, she couldn’t fall asleep due to all her excitement.

Clark and Christy’s relationship slowly began to become more intimate on the nights that she came over. I can clearly remember a few times when he had

taken our linen to be washed the morning after her visits.

As the months passed, I went into labour during the middle of the night and eventually gave birth to you.

From the start, I knew you were a beautiful little baby. You had your father’s hair, eyes and skin along with many of my facial features. When you cooed as I held

you close to my heart, I knew deep down that you were meant to be my heir.

Following your birth, Clark reached the top of the politics career and…

… we managed to extend the house (also thanks to your father’s skills).

I’m fairly sure that what happened next was that we celebrated Steven’s 28 th

birthday.

When Steven became an adult, you could tell how much he looked like our father.

As soon as his birthday was over, Steven was able to find a job as a golf caddy.

Within a couple of years, Steven was able to be promoted high enough to receive his mysterious object from his career. After he left it in the attic, he informed us

that the seeds it came with smelled a bit “funny”.

For the next little while, all that really did happen in the house that you probably wouldn’t remember were your birthdays.

First, there was your third birthday when you became a toddler and then there was your fifth birthday when you became a child. They are probably just very

foggy memories of yours if you do happen to remember them.

I also remember your first day back from school. I’m pretty sure that you shouted to anyone in earshot that it was “too difficult” and that they were “rushing kids to

learn things before they could understand them.”

But somehow you persevered through your homework and were able to get an A on every assignment. That’s what I call a dedication to your future.

I also remember you telling your sister once that you “wanted to reform the education system and make it much smoother for everyone.”

I’m fairly sure that she responded to that with something along the lines of “and I’ll help by protecting everyone that goes to school from the zombies.”

It’s amazing thinking back now to how much like me you were at that age. Already knowing what you wanted to become and rebuild for society.

Speaking of a societal rebuild, your uncle Steven was able to reach the top of the slacker career about a year after you started school and he became a

professional party guest. He declared that everyone was entitled to time off of work and your uncle Clark signed it into law as part of the bill my mother had

created years earlier.

“And, after that, things get a bit fuzzy,” Nadia trailed off.

Katheleen looked at her mother, “It’s okay mom; I think I remember what happened next.”

As you said, I did manage to get an A in school, so I showed it off to the first person I could find: Uncle Steven. He was impressed, too. He said how proud

he was and decided to call me the little genius.

I told him how I couldn’t wait to go to school as a teenager, and then he froze up. Uncle Steven was the first person who ever explained to me that school ended

after you turned 13.

My smile faltered and I went inside to finish my homework. It was on that day that I knew it would be up to me to reform the educational institution and make children’s lives less hectic and, well, boring. Heck, you can’t expect someone

considered a ‘genius’ to love school all the time, now can you?

I remember telling Christine what I had just learned and, apparently, she already knew. Her 13th birthday was that weekend and she had already been prepared

to live with the fact that she would no longer be attending school.

“Kat, you need to understand that not having a secondary school to go to is both a blessing and a curse. Sure, you have to rush to learn everything you need to know in life, and that sucks, but at the same time you can learn hands on skills while you’re a teenager. I’m going to work on my military training so I can help

reopen access to colleges and universities to help you in your goal.”

“You really mean that?” I asked optimistically.

“Yes, oxymoron. We’re sisters; we need to work together.”

On the next Saturday, Christine became a teenager whose goal in life was to become a popular general. Although what she grew up into was, well, not the best looking outfit I’ve seen, it wouldn’t matter since she’d be spending most of

her time working out to the sound of white noise over the radio.

I also remember hearing her talk to Uncle Clark about what she was planning as a future general.

“And I promise that my army will protect civilization and not destroy it, Uncle Clark,” she smirked as she spoke.

“As long as we can reopen our old connections with Takemizu, I’m perfectly fine with whatever you plan.”

“Thank you, Katheleen. I can finish the rest of the story as I know it now.”

“You’re welcome, mom.”

After your sister became a teenager, the days were left dwindling for my mother. She and my father spent every waking minute by each other’s sides talking and gossiping about the times before the apocalypse. My mother talked to everyone

she could have to say her goodbyes, except, of course, for me. Even in her dying days, she refused to forgive me for what I had done.

I think my father tried to convince her to forgive me, but she had no of it. Over the course of 25 years, she hadn’t spoken a single word to me or even

acknowledged my prescence.

And that’s how it would be for the rest of eternity.

I never got a chance to say goodbye to my mother. I was at work when she passed away. I think she must have strategically planned her death around my schedule just so she wouldn’t have to think about me while she moved on to the

next world.

Kathleen, I miss my mother more than you can ever imagine. I did a horrible thing to her and was never forgiven for it. Every day since she died, I’ve cried

myself to sleep knowing how awful she must have thought I was.

I found out about her death when I got home from work and the entire family was gathered around her grave. Everyone was beginning to go back to their daily

activities, leaving me to mourn.

And that’s when it happened. I heard someone’s breath everywhere around me, but nowhere at the same time.

“Nadia…” the voice called out from a world beyond ours.

I tried to ignore it, but the voice kept getting louder and louder.

“NADIA!” he shouted. “Nadia, I know you can hear me.”

“No, no I can’t,” I said out loud.

“What was that, honey?” your father called over to me.

“Nothing,” I replied.

The voice snickered, “Think your words instead of speaking them; people won’t think that you’re crazy that way. I remember telling your mother the same thing.”

“My mother?” I thought to myself.

“Yes, your mother. Come on, Nadia; it should be pretty obvious who this is.”

“No!” I cried out, “No, you don’t exist.”

“Then who’s talking to you?”

“I’ve gone crazy. Schizophrenia can be passed on through the generations and I must have gotten it from my mother.”

“Your mother never had schizophrenia, and you know it.”

“I..I..”

I stopped listening to the voice and ran to find your father. I wasn’t going to listen to it. I wasn’t going to let it control me like it did my mother.

I brought your father outside and began frantically explaining to him what happened. He held me close and told me that everything would be okay as long

as we stuck together.

But I couldn’t listen to your father either. I realized that I needed time alone to take it all in. My mother was dead and she had left me with her disease.

I found a quiet spot in the living room where I thought I could think, but the voice continued to pester me.

“Nadia, I’m your creator. Please, just try and accept that your mother was sane.”

“No she wasn’t and neither am I.”

“Yes you are. It’s just that, right now, only the leader of the family seems to be able to hear me for some reason. I’m looking into it, but rest assur-“

“Just leave me alone! I don’t believe in you.”

“Well, if you don’t believe in me then why are you talking to me?”

“Good question; I’ll start ignoring you again.”

I stayed up for hours listening to that annoying voice in my head yammer on and on about being the creator and how he was just here to guide me. By the time

day broke, he gave up for a few days.

This went on for years. By the time you became a teenager and vowed that you would dedicate your life to knowledge, the voice began to take even longer

breaks in between trying to speak to me.

His next break lasted until the day that my father passed away.

He told me that I should be proud of the work my parents did. Yes, I agreed with him. I was proud of my parents work. But what I wasn’t proud of was how I had begun to believe that, in some possible way, this was all just a game my mind

was playing to scorn myself for how I had treated my mother.

Time continued to pass on and you and your sister were in the midst of training for your respective careers. Well, in your case, it seemed more so that you just

wanted to learn anything and everything that you could.

By the time you were sixteen, you had already become a master of the logical skill, am I right? It was the first step you took in achieving your dream.

This brings us to the final event in my story: my transition into elderhood.

I had seen what this transition had done to my parents. From time to time, they seemed a bit out of place, but nothing too severe. But it was my mother’s

transition that made me the most excited for my own.

Yes, it was sadistic in a way to say that I wanted what happened to my mother to happen to me. But I felt that I would be free from the burden of that voice as

soon as those candles had been blown out.

As the flames flickered away, I felt an odd sensation come across my body.

As you and your father cheered me on, I tuned out your voices to hear ‘it’ for the last time.

“Nadia, please listen; you aren’t crazy. Trust me!”

“Yes voice. Yes I am crazy, and you will never convince me otherwise,” I whispered to myself.

Confetti popped off of my body revealing the new me. Well, the ‘old’ me if you prefer a pun.

But the pun doesn’t matter. What did matter was that I finally got my wish: no longer could I hear the voice that dubbed itself the ‘creator’.

And that night, I enjoyed my birthday in peace with those that I loved.

“That’s the end of my story, Katheleen.”

Katheleen stared at her mother, mouth hanging slightly. Her entire life, she thought that she knew the woman that had been speaking to her for the past two

hours only to realize that she had been speaking to someone completely different.

Katheleen looked down at her stockings and began to speak softly, “Mom, I don’t think that grandma was really crazy.”

“In all honesty, sweetheart, neither do I. I believe I was the one who was crazy. If I hadn’t been so judgmental of what my mother believed, I probably would have had a better life. Maybe it was the isolation from her that made the creator want

to speak to me after she had passed on.

Or maybe, he just wanted me to know what it truly meant to be an heir. Katheleen, we all have to make hard decisions while we lead the family and I

made the wrong one. If one day you begin to hear the creator, please listen to him. I should have when I had the chance, but I didn’t. If he was able to help my

mother than I’m sure that he’ll be able to help you when the time comes.”

“Yes, mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetie.”

End of Chapter 2

Reggie here, ending the story with a few notes. Firstly, this’ll be the last chapter from a character’s perspective. Next time, it’s all my

talking, people! I just needed to start this apocalypse off with a bang since I’m so far in.

Anyways, new character info:

Bruce (Rauscer) SandersonFortune – Become a Business Tycoon

6/5/8/3/3

Christine SandersonPopularity/Pleasure – Become a General

9/10/9/3/1

Katheleen SandersonKnowledge/Family – Maximize 7 Skills

6/5/8/2/7

Also, the restrictions lifted so far are: Hopelessness/Law

Medical Culinary

Architecture Politics Slacker

And as you should know, Christine is meant for Military so I can move some sims out while Katheleen is meant for Education.

See ya next time!