The Sanderson Apocalypse – PrologueThe story of my family begins only three generations ago, before all of this chaos and havoc was set loose upon SimEarth. The picture above that I found within a decrepit diary lying on top of our sole bookcase is of my grandmother, Michelle Sanderson. My name is Katheleen Sanderson, third generation heiress to her

mission, and I will be reading to you the story within these pages that my grandmother wrote as well as telling you about life through my mother’s eyes as

she started her own writing after my grandmother’s dementia began.

There is a lot to get through in order to come to where we are today. I’ve never actually gotten a chance to read through grandma’s story yet, so you’ll have to

forgive me in advance for interrupting at times with my own thoughts.

Dear Diary,It’s strange how things can change over the course of a few years on our lonely planet of SimEarth. It was only four years ago that I began my journey through university as a freshman planning on majoring in biology. I can hardly believe how far I’ve come since then and how strange it feels to reminisce about the times before now. It feels so long ago since I could feel safe outside of my

home, not be cautious about whether or not the water I’m drinking may kill me and be forced to one square meal a day because of a lack of food supplies.

Oh, what I wouldn’t do just for a nice, warm shower once again!

But if we don’t learn from the past, we are sure to repeat those tragic events again in the future. That’s why I’m writing this diary; so that none of my

descendents will ever forget what we are trying to avoid have happen once again.

There had been many signs that this was near, incompetence being one of them. Cruel fate knew that the people during my younger years simply breezed through

life without even learning how to protect themselves and just simply hoping others could do it for them. The man who worked in my dorms cafeteria was one of those people. Whenever a fire started, he hummed a hawed until the sprinkler system above would put it out. He didn’t care if the food he served was burnt so

badly that it was barely edible; he was just content making his $10 an hour serving military style grub to the future minds of the world. If his clothes singed, it was no skin off his back. There was always an extra pair lying around so he

had no need to try and fix his crispy uniform.

Looking back now, it saddens me to know that I must have played my part contributing to this future.

If I hadn’t spent my days playing games on the computer or surfing the Internet for random “memes” and “viral videos”, I probably would have had a much more enriching educational experience at university and would have contributing much

more to help rebuild the world. I’m sure after a while, many of us in this future who can remember the Internet do miss it. Well, those of us who are not still

wasting our time playing that silly MMORPG that is all the rage among those who want to forget that we are living in such a desperate time.

Well, it can’t be said that I wasted all of my time at university. I did happen to find my own saving grace while I was there: Ethan Olfski. Ethan had worked as the llama mascot for our school’s cheerleading team and had also taken biology

as his major. Although a year younger than I was, Ethan managed to have a calm and certainly inspiring approach to life.

If I must say it, I loved Ethan. And by love, well, you know what I mean…

It was lucky for me that that loved was reciprocated. After one of his pep rallies, Ethan came over to my house (which I began renting in third year) and he celebrated the team’s victory by kissing me through his mask. After a few

moments staring at him in awe, I asked him if he would be my boyfriend and he accepting.

By my fourth and final year, Ethan and I were living together living the dream life. It was magical, it was romantic, and it was about to be crushed by reality.

Only a few minutes after graduating, fate decided it was time for it’s revenge…

Looking down at the pop tarts I had left out over night, this queasy sensation came about me. I had no idea what it was at the time, but it felt like my gut had jumped up into my head and knocked my brain into hyper drive. I could sense that something was off almost immediately. I clutched my stomach and began

panting. Then, he spoke.

“Michelle…” the voice whispered from what seemed to be another land.

I ignored it and looked in what I hoped was the opposite direction. It was just a one time thing, nothing to be afraid of. I wasn’t hearing voices or anything.

“Michelle, can you hear me?” The voice became louder.

Okay, I was definitely hearing a voice. I began to pant and lose composure. Maybe I had lost my sanity by being too close to those rancid pop tarts. Yes,

that was it.

I took the pop tarts and threw them into the dishwasher so I wouldn’t be able to smell that terrible smell anymore. One of the varsity coaches ran up from behind

me and was screaming.

“Miss, you have to get out of here; we need to evacuate immediately!”

“Just a minute,” I hollered back. Okay, it was probably him who I had heard. It wasn’t some voice inside my head.

“Miss, a taxi is waiting for you outside, please hurry!”

He left quickly and ran over to the next house.

“Michelle!”

A voice called for me from behind, just like the coach, but no one was there. This can’t be happening, I thought I had figured everything out. I began wringing

my hands out of fear for both my safety and my sanity.

“Michelle, you need to listen to me!”

“Get out of my head!” I screamed at the voice at loud as I could, “Just the hell out of there and stay out!”

For a moment, there was nothing. I could hear him… it… whoever this was breathing calmly.

“Just listen for one second, Michelle Sanderson, and don’t freak out again,” I was now sure that it was a he, “The apocalypse is beginning, and I’ve chosen you to

found a family that will rebuild society.”

I choked on my breath, “Okay, now I know I’m crazy.”

“You aren’t crazy, and I know it. I’m your creator.”

I fell to the floor in a thud. This wasn’t happening, not me, not now. I had heard of other sims being called on by their “creators” to lead strange tasks like this,

but I would have never expected it to be me.

“Michelle, are you okay? Answer me!”

“…”

“Michelle!”

“Fine.”

“Fine what?”

“I’ll rebuild society.”

What choice did I have? Everything was going to crumble anyways and I didn’t want my life to be wasted. If this voice really was my creator, I’m sure he

wouldn’t have me die miserable. Hell, he’d probably just reset me so I wouldn’t remember this and probably start a “legacy” instead. The voice needed me now

and so I chose to listen to it and take a chance.

I had a vague idea of what was to come. The voice told me that I will have to master a profession of the past and show the world that there was still hope for a future. It wasn’t much to go on, but I know he will help through any trouble that I

encounter. Or at least, I hope he will.

There was one other thing he said, but this was not about the apocalypse, rather my family:

When the time comes, the heir will choose themselves. Only the true leader will shine through and continue to inspire the family’s work.

I have to go to work now; today’s my first shift as a file clerk at a nearby law firm. If I miss one shift, they’ll fire me automatically in case I might have died. Life

right now is pretty hectic and I will miss you.

Until next time diary,Michelle Sanderson

Well, I guess I didn’t get the chance to interrupt like I thought I would, but I don’t know what to think. I know that mom and my uncles talked about grandma

hearing voices from time to time, but I thought it was part of the dementia many senior citizens during these times have been going through.

I need to take a moment before I continue reading her diary since it goes into much more detail later on. I’ll try and get back to you as soon as possible, so

please don’t fret. I’ll be sure to get a lot more in next time, I promise.

***Okay, hey, this is Reggie/rcubical/Gamecube20041978 here informing you that I have started my apocalypse challenge and am already raising generation four as you read. This prologue was just summing up our founder’s university life prior to

the apocalypse and I’ll continue with the first half of generation 1 handing over the challenge to generation 2 next time. It’s going to be Katheleen telling the

story from the diary and then later from the stories she remembers as a child and what her mother had told her. I’ll update when I have time :P

Hope you enjoyed!