The Radiation was so bad, it was so awful. My throat was swelling and burning, I couldn't breath. Trying to get a breathe of air - any air - I stumbled over and fell. I got on my knees, and looked at the back of my hands and arms. My skin was bubbling, and peeling off. I started to shake uncontrollably. The pain hit me all at once. My entire body tensed up, and I could feel the skin fall off my face. Next thing I knew, there was a pile of hair and blood and skin around me. In my last moment of weakness, I looked into the sky and screamed in pain. The world burned around me, and I didn't know what to do. As I screamed and cried and choked I thought of my wife, I thought of my son.

My beautiful city collapsed.

My gorgeous city.

My love.

Mine.

All mine.

When I came to, the smoke had cleared. The sky was bright blue, there wasn't a cloud in sight. And I didn't care. Whatever was left of my skin was rotted off, but I could feel the radiation in the air. And it felt good. I took a deep breathe in through my nose, and let it out with my mouth. The air tasted good. I felt good. I took a few more big breathes, and looked at my palms. The rotten skin started to fall off, and I could see fresh, baby smooth skin underneath. In just a few hours, I was completely back to normal.

I looked at my city in the distance. It was one Hell of a walk down the mountain bunker to get there, but I somehow knew I would be fine. The air was full of poison that just made me feel great. So I walked, and it took a day or maybe a little less than that, but I made it. My city was still beautiful. My city was just as fantastic as ever. Through all the collapsed skyscraqers and piles of concrete and rebar, it was still my city. I smiled, because it was all mine.

Years past. But I didn't change one bit. I looked the same, just younger than I was before I died. I was fifty years old the day I died, and now I looked more like I was twenty-five. And it felt good. Tens of years past, and people started to come into my city. My city. I let them stay, though. And over the years they don't talk to me. They let me keep my skyscraqer that still stands. The only one left in my city. It was some government building before I died, with a huge network of tunnels underneath it. And it was chock full of weapons and food.

In no time, I became their leader. I provided them with food, if I deem them worthy. I even gave a few people some guns, and they held the law. Fifty years later, I died ninety years ago, and my city was alive and well. I didn't let anybody enter my building, though. I paid guards in food and water to keep people from coming in. And of course I lived at the top of the tower. For another hundred years, I watched over my city. And everything was good. The year was 2276, and all was good.