hate him less

AN: I am sorry, I do not know how many times i have apolgized but genuinely to everyone enjoying this story as much as i am, sorry, i was not feeling well. Anyway, here is a special update outside of the normal time, enjoy. 

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The military vehicle rumbled forward, its wheels gliding smoothly over the pristine roads. The convoy stretched ahead and behind them, a line of fifteen to twenty armored vehicles, all moving in synchronized motion. The students sat stiffly, their eyes drinking in the surroundings as they left the heart of the city. It was the first time they had truly observed the world outside their institution, and for a moment, it was easy to pretend that everything they had seen through the projector had been nothing more than fiction.

"H-hey, look, have any of you guys noticed that wall there?" one of the students asked, his voice hesitant, almost afraid to break the illusion of normalcy.

"N-no... it's my first time seeing it too. How about the rest of you guys?" another responded, awe and anxiety lacing his voice.

"Same."

"Y-yeah, me too. Never seen that before."

The confessions passed through the vehicle like an unspoken agreement that reality was beginning to shift. Ahead, looming in the distance, was a colossal wall—its structure so vast it rivaled the legendary Great Wall of China or Berlin's historic divide. But unlike those ancient relics, this one bore no scars of time. It was fresh, almost sterile in appearance, towering with a daunting presence that hinted at something hidden beyond its borders. A barrier between the untouched city and whatever nightmares lay outside.

"Tsk, how could you know the wall existed when you've been shielded all this time in your comfy institution?" one of the soldiers driving scoffed, breaking protocol to join their conversation. His voice carried a bitterness that silenced the group instantly. It wasn't the words that made them fall quiet, but the tone—a mixture of resentment and knowing. He had seen what lay beyond that wall, and from the way he spoke, it was nothing like the haven they were leaving behind.

The silence stretched on, and Ella found herself grateful for it. She let her gaze drift out of the window, allowing the cityscape to etch itself into her mind one last time.

The streets were immaculate, unnervingly so. Not a single crack marred the roads, not a single stray piece of litter disrupted the flow of order. The towering skyscrapers reflected the soft golden hues of the sun, their glass exteriors capturing the city's essence like shimmering beacons of stability. Neon signs blinked in synchronized patterns, advertising luxury brands, fine dining, and theaters—reminders of a life that could still be indulged within these walls. The sidewalks were lined with vibrant flower beds, their petals bursting in shades of crimson, violet, and gold, tended to with meticulous care. It was beautiful, almost too beautiful, like a manufactured dream.

It was a world frozen in time, untouched by the chaos the students had seen on the projector. The wastelands, the destruction, the decay—it was hard to reconcile those images with the paradise they were passing through. It made their knowledge of the outside feel distant, like a horror story whispered at night but never truly seen. But the wall ahead told a different story. It stood as a reminder that paradise was a carefully maintained illusion, and reality lurked just beyond its reach.

Ella exhaled softly, gripping her hands together as her mind drifted to the letter she had received months ago. Her mother's words echoed in her mind, each sentence etched deep within her memory.

Also, I forgot to mention, I saw your father. After so many years, can you believe it? Your aunt Shelly and her two daughters, Mia and Tia—the ones who used to be our neighbors before we moved that year after your father left—they passed away. It was a car accident… or so they say. Your uncle Tom was devastated. I felt sorry for him. He looked as ghostly as I did when your father left us, though your father wasn't dead. No matter how much I had wished it upon him.

Which brings me to the next note—I am sorry, Ella. It must have been hard for you, watching your mother drown in work and endlessly curse at your father. I wish you had never seen that, but you still grew into a fine young lady. As if you inherited none of our flaws. It would be great if you didn't, especially your father's.

In any case, as you know, your father and I do not get along, so the funeral was awkward. Worse still, I did not see your younger brother, Jack. We nearly fought. I nearly punched him. He kept Jack away and, even when given the chance to bring him back for us to see him, he didn't. I was livid. When he finally showed up as we were making tea for the guests, I nearly poured it on him.

The funeral went surprisingly well. Your father, the ever-showoff with his wealthy paternal family, brought enough resources to make sure Tom's family lacked nothing. Oh? I'm talking about your father a lot again, aren't I? Sorry. If you were here, you'd scold me. I wanted to tell you all of this, but everything happened so fast. And then, the world began to change.

The funeral went well, so don't worry or blame yourself. But I wanted to ask you something—hate him less. Let me, as your mother, take away all the hatred for your dad, okay? Don't burden yourself with it. And for your younger brothers, Jake and Jack, be impartial. Even if Jack is being raised by your father's family, he is still your little brother. If you ever meet him out there somewhere, take him along too. Protect him.

Oh, and one last thing about the funeral—rumors have been spreading. Graves have been dug up. If you have time, please check on Aunt Shelly's grave as well as Mia and Tia's. People say the bodies are missing. Sundale was on the news. They say their loved ones' graves are empty, and some think the dead are being turned into something else. Zombies. We dismissed it as nonsense. But now, with everything happening, I'm starting to believe it.

And here again, you would scold me, wouldn't you, my little girl? Telling me to believe in science, not superstition. Hehe. I miss you, Ella.

Anyway, if you can, check on the graves. It would break your uncle Tom's heart if they were gone too.