My eyes shoot open when my body violently inhales; above me, a gray sky stretches forever, to my right, though, is my mother. Her once vibrant eyes are frozen wide in horror and terror, I stare at her, unable to tear my eyes away from the grotesque face but when I do I find myself staring at my father. His face is contorted in pain and rage, his face is covered in blood and if I could have, I would have thrown up.

Close your eyes a distorted whisper on the wind, nearly drowned out by the barbaric, barking tongue of the invaders. I snap my eyes shut and wait, I wait for a hail of bullets, or for the sound of soil falling on the dead but instead, there is nothing. There is nothing for hours till the whisper comes again. Rise, run, do not stop. Run to the coast.

I do not know where the coast is but I get up and claw my way to the surface before I take off running. I run like I’ve never run before, my breath comes as white vapor, my lungs burn, and the taste of blood fills my mouth, but I keep running. I run through the night, guided by the moon, and then I run well past the sunrise. I run till my legs give out and my vision blackens while the ground rushes up to catch me.