When Apocalypse Hit, I Made Them Beg

I spun around. The heavy alloy door had already swung shut. "What do you think you're doing?!" Vivienne Calloway, my family's adopted daughter, peered at me through the small double-paned bulletproof window with a look of smug satisfaction. "Iris, you've been obsessing over this for months. Do you have any idea how much of a laughingstock you've made the Calloways in our social circle?" she said. "I'm putting a stop to your little breakdown. I'm doing this for Mom and Dad." I lunged for the door and tried to force it open, only to find that Vivienne had bolted it from the outside. "Vivienne!" I shouted, my voice tight with urgency. "Stop this! Open the door right now!" Not only was I trapped inside, but Mom and Dad couldn't get in either. Vivienne seemed not to hear me at all. She turned and started to walk away. This wasn't a petty squabble I could afford to let slide. Lives were at stake. "Mom and Dad would never allow this!" I called after her. Her footsteps faltered. But in the next second, two familiar voices reached me. "Good, let her rot in there." Then, turning to Vivienne with a warm smile, "You really are the best daughter we could ask for." Mom and Dad were walking toward the bunker, one after the other. The contempt on their faces landed like a punch. "Dad? Mom? You don't believe me either?" Dad's brow furrowed. "Believe you? You've been acting delusional for months. Why would anyone believe you? I hadn't even decided on a punishment yet. Vivienne did the smart thing, letting you suffer the consequences yourself." Mom sighed, her tone heavy with disapproval. "Iris, don't blame us. We're doing this for your own good. Just admit you were wrong, promise us you'll have the bunker torn down, and I'll let you out right now. What do you say?" "Absolutely not," I said, without a moment's hesitation. "The bunker stays." The disappointment in their eyes cut through me. In my previous life, on New Year's Eve, Vivienne had accused me of trying to steal her New Year's gift. I was locked in my room and barred from the New Year's Eve dinner. But just past midnight, a commotion erupted outside my door. Screams and sobbing bled through the walls. Before I could make sense of it, someone pounded frantically on my door. "Iris, open up! There are the Infected everywhere out there. Please, let your mom and dad and your sister in, just for a little while!" I was startled and reached for the door, then stopped. The door had been locked from the outside. So how were they asking me to open it? A chill ran through my entire body. "Are you hurt?" I asked. Silence fell on the other side. When the voice came again, it was hollowed out with despair. "We're... we're all hurt. Please. We haven't turned. Just let us in. Please." With trembling hands, I pressed my weight against the door and locked it from the inside. "I'm sorry," I whispered. I listened to the three of them call for help through the entire night. The guilt was crushing, nearly unbearable. I made myself a promise: if I was ever given another chance, I would do everything in my power to save my family. And when I woke up and realized I had actually been reborn, I didn't hesitate. I poured every last cent of my savings into building the bunker, a space designed to sustain all four of us. I had expected them not to understand. I had expected resistance. What I had never imagined was that they would be the ones to lock the bunker door themselves. This wasn't a punishment. They had just sealed off their only way out.