This Is not A Drill.

The Warning.

****This is a fictional story about nuclear war, upmost respects to the bombings of hiroshima and nagasaki.****

Marianne stood at her window, pacing back and forth. Marianne was about 17 years old, a junior in high school. She lived alone in New Jersey, in an old apartment complex.
This was due to being disowned by her family over a conversion from their religon to another. Basically destroying their relationship with each other. Marianne hadn't talked to her family in months. No birthday calls, no letters, no emails, and they all unfollowed her Instagram account.
The radio had just issued a nuclear warning. Meaning that somewhere, in the former best country, land of the free, America, there would be a severe explosion. An explosion that even if she were to survive, it would be a very slim chance of her living past 24 hours. An old, rundown apartment would leave her no chance. Marianne had no hope. But she had done research on Nuclear Bombs itself. Radiation sickness, the do's and don'ts for survival. But she was about certain that she wouldn't survive.
Marianne looked back out the window, looking up at the pale-gray sky, decorated with clouds and airplanes. Her heart raced, knowing that after many years of discrimination, after many years of threats, after many years of hatred, this might shut up the world. The airplanes headed north, and Marianne was certain they'd hit in New York. The state directly above her own. So Marianne quickly took precaution and cover. She grabbed a bag of canned food that she kept just in case, grabbed four fully charged video games; a DSi, a 2DS, a DS lite, and a game boy. She grabbed her cell phone, although it had a few days left on the service card. No point in going out and buying another. And finally, she grabbed a radio. Just in case, and quickly ran down the metallic steps. She ran into the apartment's basement area, where the laundry was done and dried. She ducked under a table and surrounded it with washing machines, knowing that protection is key. Marianne quickly turned on the radio and covered her head, bending herself up like a somersault. And she waited.
After a while of plain music with eventual national announcement warnings, there was sudden white noise.
As the "kkkkkkkkkkkkccccchhhhhhhhhh...." remained, Marianne took her hands off her head and looked around, her heart thumped. She knew that the bomb had fallen. She took her long blonde hair and threw it behind her, turning the radio's knob to see what else could explain what happened. New Jersey's radio station was out too, and Pennsylvania's. Suddenly, there was a loud crash. It was the rubble of the building. The building was going to collapse.