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Espen took a roll of bandages from his satchel, and began wrapping his arm with it. The bunker was loud earlier, but now that it was late night the noise had died down. Espen was the only one awake now, it had to have been no earlier than three in the morning. Espen finished applying the bandage, snapping the excess off with his teeth. He rolled down his sleeve again, and stood up.
He scanned the surroundings again. The nuclear bunker didn't have much, just the same barren walls. The floor was littered with sleeping people, the bunker didn't have enough room to supply beds for everyone. Espen carefully made his way across the room, careful not to step on anyone. He eventually found the corner, and stood there on his own. He looked down, his eyes lying on his boots, which were still covered in ash. He sighed quietly. Espen stared at the old, rusty clock on the wall opposite of him. As the clock struck four A.M, Espen's spirits lowered even further.
He was now nineteen years of age, but he felt as if he were thirty-five.