March 19, 2026: The Year the Bombs Fell

Dr. Carr and several of her colleagues had approached the glass door of my room, holding a tray of cake slices, a box wrapped in white paper, and a comically large birthday card. The moment the observation door slid up into the wall, the doctors began singing “Happy Birthday” in diverse tonalities. They’re men and women of science, not music. They’re trying.

“Happy birthday, Antonio,” Dr. Carr said in a sweet voice that matched her gentle grin. The stout, balding doctor to her left held a card that was almost too large for him. He handed it to me and aloofly echoed Dr. Carr’s “Happy birthday.” I searched the card, which had been signed by hundreds of people, all with the same scratchy handwriting. Uh, what were their names again… Rose… no, Rosa! And, um, Mark… no…

“Is everything okay, Antonio?” I looked up to see Dr. Carr’s eyebrows furrowed and peeking out from underneath her chocolaty bangs. For being inside all the time, she somehow maintained a smooth, olive complexion.

“Is there any way I could see my parents? It’s my birthday, Dr. Carr.”

“I’m sorry, six‒ Antonio. They’re quite busy today, but I’ll check to see if they can sneak out,” she said with a wink, seeming to forget she says that every time. “In the meantime, here.” She hands me the wrapped box without breaking eye contact. I continued staring at the space between her eyes. “Take some cake, your present, and enjoy your birthday. I’ll come back later to see how it’s going.” She winked again.

Without saying a word, I took a plate of cake and gift back to my room. I placed my fingers on the touchpad by the doorway and turned my back as the glass door lowered back into place. I tore away the paper from the box and my heart leapt, the title read Fallout Next, from my favorite series. Ignoring the lie Dr. Carr has told me once again, I popped the disc in and took my spot on the couch.

I was sitting in my room as I watched the loading transitions flash on the thin TV in my room. I reached out and tore off some cake with my bare hands, letting the crumbs fall onto the gray couch cushions. The title screen for Fallout Next finally loaded, and I gripped the ergonomic controller with excitement. I looked up at the sterile lights and began searching for the remote to dim them. I’ve gotta set the mood, I thought. Of course. I reached into the breast pocket that was stitched with “#627,” found the egg-shaped remote, and dimmed the lights. Perfect. I snatched up the controller and headphones and prepared myself to be immersed.

So far, my birthday was great. I made it through the tutorial level with ease, the first quest started off with a smash, the soundtrack was glorious, and the graphics were too real. For several hours, I was completely engulfed in the video game thanks to the noise cancelling headphones provided by the doctors three birthdays ago. I heard a bass drum. That’s a weird part of the soundtrack, maybe it’s for intensity. Another bassy thud. This time louder. Oh man, something super cool is about to happen. Another loud thud. Water splashed from the cup on the table. Wait. A bassy thud quickly followed. Some of the doctors began running around the hall outside my room. Thud. I threw off the headphones to go see what was going on but as I stood, the TV turned off, the room went dark, and the red emergency lights in the hallway painted the panicking lab coats red. Fuck, I forgot to save my game. Thud.