Starla.

There was so much around me to take in, and I never really got to notice it before. Surely, I shouldn’t be noticing all of these factors at the present moment, but we all have our flaws. The desk rattled in anticipation of another explosion, and my sequestered squeak remained exactly that. There was no time for fear in the predicament I happened to be witnessing. Was this the next Columbine? I sincerely hoped this wasn’t the case. But then again, I hoped death would not spare mercy on me and snatch me as if the abstract emotion could steal something in the dead of the night. Hope is a fickle concept, and it obviously doesn’t favor me. Death is evident and my eyes do not lie.

Would I be the person required to report this to the world? Would I remain victorious and have this scathed life that would forever be branded with survivor? I tried not to think, for the fear they could hear my loud thoughts was something I utterly believed in, if these people could possess this much evil, I’m sure they could possess anything else. Clutching to my knees, my breathing minimized though the adrenaline told my lungs to breathe faster. This was the millionth time today alone I had to deny my humanity.

And as the darkness rolled around me in a thick fog, so did the pain, so did the deceit. Where was loyalty? Where was the humanity? I had always believed that in the core of everyone, there is good. Doesn’t mean they are obliged to enact on the trait. This event occurring around me, something beyond my fathoming, proved that my belief was wrong.

My eyes don’t lie.