There's a ringing in my ears and I can't see straight. I can't remember much of anything either. I can't remember when I got to the diner, or when I got so tired. I can't remember closing my eyes or waking up at all. It takes all my strength just to pick up my head and look around. Though cruel reality wasn't something I could cope with, not this time. Like waking from a dream and into a nightmare; I was horrified by the massacre that lay before me. The bodies of familiar faces, people I know from town. People I live and work with. So still, so silent. Even the old family diner looks the same amid the chaos. No, it doesn't. Things are different now. The scene of warm childhood memories has turned cold and gray like the rest of my world.
I sit alone in my booth shuddering, in too much pain to shout and call for help. But none of that mattered; they came for us. In their white, faceless hazmat suits to round up the dead. They start to go through my friends and family. Carefully and efficiently, they gathered the children, then the women. Yet it wasn't until they pulled my lifeless body from me did I realize how much I had lost. The cold-hearted men in white collected who they could and left. Never stopped, never looked back. I just sat there in shock and disbelief. Everything I knew was fading.
...by Emily Schroder
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