Bloody Hands

The trip was so long that I had fell asleep, which may sound stupid, but by now I am sleep deprived. I woke up to a fast jerk. I fell off of the seats, and the guys laughed, one poking me in the ass. I got up, embarrassed, and sat down quickly.

"Out!" I could hear Liam's voice loud and proud. The other guys pushed me aside and climbed out of the room. I was last, of course.

"Liam, what the fuck are you doing here?" Someone said, before I reached the outside light. When I did, I understood.

There was the White House, half of it destroyed. There was black ashes all over the building, and you could see where some bombs had hit. It was terrifying.

"We're going in," Liam said.

"No, no," another guy said. "I am not going in there! Are you fucking crazy? There are probably government people in there!"

My heart almost stopped. Is everyone dead now? Did they really kill America? I thought about everyone I knew in my entire lifetime. Dead? How? I bit back all of the tears that crept up on my face. To be honest, I wish I could have died like them. To be bombed, and then everything would be gone. A split second of pain, and I would be done.

Done.

Am I done yet?

"Sasha, go! In there!"

"What?" My remark came faster than I expected, and I wished it was gone as I said it.

Before I knew it, a blade came to my throat. "Because I fucking said so."