Apocalyptic Hoarding Diary

She went into the bedroom, which was a little smaller than the living room, about ten square meters. A double bed was placed against the wall with a sturdy wooden bed frame and an old-fashioned openwork headboard.

There was a thin mattress on the bed, and a plastic film on top of the mattress. She lifted the plastic film and pressed it. The mattress wasn't soft, but it should be sleepable.

There are two bedside tables, placed symmetrically on either side, each with an old-fashioned table lamp on top, the lampshade being milky white and covered with a layer of dust.

She tried the switch, but because there was no power, she didn't know if the lamp would still work.

The wardrobe was built-in. She opened the door and found it empty except for a few clothes hangers, crooked and uneven. There was a shelf on top of the wardrobe, but when she looked up on tiptoe, there was nothing there.

The window was a sliding type. She opened it. It was already late at night, and the temperature had finally dropped a bit. A cool breeze blew in, carrying the dry air from outside.

Looking out the window, you can see collapsed buildings, desolate streets, and the faint silhouettes of mountains in the distance.

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting dappled patterns on the floor.

She walked out of the bedroom and opened the bathroom door.

The bathroom is small, about two or three square meters, but it is fully functional.

The toilet is old-fashioned, but it looks clean and the lid still closes; the sink is white ceramic with some minor cracks, but it doesn't leak; there's a mirror on the sink with some water stains, but it still reflects the image.

The shower head is mounted on the wall; it's an old-fashioned, round one. There's also a water heater in the corner.

Xu Xiaoyan checked the time—11:45 PM.

The bright light from the phone screen stung her eyes in the darkness. She squinted at it for a moment, then turned it off. It was time for a good night's sleep.

After a whole day of tossing and turning, her bones felt like they were about to fall apart, and she longed to collapse into bed and sleep forever, but she couldn't lie down.

The building across the street isn't far away, so it's alright since there's no light.

But what if we wait until dawn tomorrow?

Because there were no curtains, people in the building across the street could see everything in her bedroom with just a glance – where she slept, what she had left there, and what she did alone in her room.

She didn't want to be made a fool of, nor did she want anyone to discover anything she shouldn't have. Rather than having her secrets exposed later, she preferred to be prepared from the start.

She turned and walked out of the bedroom toward the living room.

There were curtains in the living room. She walked over and tugged at them. The curtains were hanging on a rusty metal rod, secured at both ends with plastic hooks.

She tried to take the curtain down, but as soon as she applied force, the thin fabric made a slight tearing sound.

It's too fragile. After countless years of sun and wind exposure, this curtain is so old that it almost breaks at the slightest touch. Even if you manage to hang it in the bedroom, it won't keep you dry for more than a few days.

She sighed and gave up on the idea.

She stood in the living room, her mind racing.

She has quite a few scarves in her space; if they were pieced together, they would definitely block out the indoor lights.

The problem is that to sew those scarves into a large curtain, she needs to be able to see the stitches, align the edges, and sew each stitch carefully, which requires the light of a flashlight.

But now the entire community is without power. She noticed when she went upstairs that the stairwell was pitch black, and all the streetlights and corridor lights were off.

What would happen if she turned on the flashlight at this moment?

People in the building across the street can clearly see her room just by looking this way—and see her doing something alone under the light.

Even if someone moves into that building, that light will become the most conspicuous target.

That's too eye-catching.

She stood in the darkness, staring at the window, her mind racing.

Suddenly, Xu Xiaoyan had a flash of inspiration. She walked to the living room window and pulled up the half of the curtain, which barely covered the entire window.

Although there are holes in some places and some parts are so thin that light can pass through, at least from the outside, you can't see the condition of the room at a glance.

Then she untied the tent from the edge of her backpack, opened it, and set it up in the living room. The tent was dark green and did not reflect light, so it was impossible to see inside from the outside.

She crawled into the tent and zipped it up.

The tent was pitch black, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. She turned on the flashlight with peace of mind, then took out several scarves from her storage space, along with a sewing kit. She threaded the needle and began to work.

The first scarf was pure cotton, dark gray, and quite large. She laid it on the ground of the tent, smoothed out the wrinkles, then picked up the second scarf, aligned its edges with the first, and began to sew it together.

She sewed slowly and carefully, making sure each stitch was firm and each thread was pulled evenly. You can't rush things like this; rushing makes mistakes, and if you make a mistake, you have to undo it and start over.

The scarf was pieced together piece by piece. Dark gray was next to dark blue, dark blue was next to maroon, and maroon was next to a plaid pattern. The colors were a bit messy, but it didn't matter, as long as it could block out the light.

Time passed by, and after what seemed like an eternity, the curtains were finally sewn shut.

She unfolded the thick, patchwork-like curtain and examined it closely. The stitches were fairly neat, and the edges were fairly even. Although the colors were varied, it was more than enough to cover the window.

She turned off the flashlight and walked to the window by the moonlight, where she hung up the homemade curtain. She would have wanted it to be more secure, so she sewed it with needle and thread, but she was too tired, so she just used a few clips to hold it in the wire above the window frame.

After hanging it up, she stepped back a few paces to take a look and felt it was alright.

She yawned, dragged the tent to the room, and crawled in to sleep. She was too tired to clean the room, so she decided to make do in the tent for the night and clean it up when she woke up tomorrow.

Xu Xiaoyan was sleeping soundly.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she woke up from the heat. She instinctively wiped her face with the back of her hand, but her hand was also covered in sweat, and the more she wiped, the stickier it became.

Her throat was so dry it felt like it was on fire. She wanted to speak, but as soon as she moved her lips, a sharp pain shot through her chapped lips. She licked them with the tip of her tongue and tasted a faint metallic taste of blood.

She groped her way out of her sleeping bag, unzipped the tent, and climbed out.

The bedroom was stuffy and hot, like a steam room. Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in her homemade patchwork curtains, casting long, thin patches of light on the floor.

She picked up her phone and glanced at it—it was exactly 12 noon.

She actually slept for so long.

It's been almost twelve hours since midnight last night.

Perhaps because I was traveling every day for a while and my nerves were constantly on edge, I finally settled down and slept very soundly.

But how could it be this hot? Even if the sun is strong outside, these old-style buildings have thick walls, so it shouldn't be this hot.

If you enjoy stories about surviving the apocalypse by stockpiling supplies, please bookmark: Apocalypse Stockpiling Survival Story