A loud crash followed by a blinding light that pierced through the darkness of the night came from downstairs. We quickly sprang out of bed after being jolted awake by the sound, our hearts racing with adrenaline as we tried to make sense of what was happening.
Without hesitation, we hurried downstairs, the floorboards creaking beneath our feet as we made our way to the source of the commotion. The air was thick with tension and anticipation as we braced ourselves for whatever awaited us at the bottom of the stairs. Each step felt like an eternity as we inched closer to uncovering the mystery behind the unsettling noise that had disrupted our peaceful slumber.
Upon reaching the ground floor, we were met with a scene of chaos and confusion. Debris littered the floor, and the once familiar surroundings of our home now seemed foreign and unfamiliar in the harsh glow of the blinding light. And in the center of all the destruction, five figures wearing blood red cloaks were staring into my parent’s souls.
“What do you want with us?” my father asked with a fierceness I’d never heard before.
“You know what we want,” a voice drawled. “Yet, you do not give -”. The voice got cut off by my mother.
“And we will never give it to you.” she bit back, with the same fierceness my father had spoken with.
“Then this falls onto you,” the voice coldly drawled.
The scene was a nightmare come to life, as my parents and figures in blood red cloaks were engaged in a fierce battle to shield me from harm. Their faces, usually filled with love and warmth, were now contorted with determination and fear. The floor was covered with the damage the intruders had done. I watched in horror as they fought valiantly, their every move a desperate attempt to keep me safe.
In a moment of sheer terror, I managed to slip away from the chaos and find refuge under the safety of the dining room table. The sounds of clashing weapons and anguished cries echoed through the house, each one piercing my heart like a dagger. I curled up into a ball, trembling with fear, as the reality of the situation sank in. The once familiar walls of my home now felt like a prison, trapping me in a world turned upside down.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as I hid beneath the table, my mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. The air was heavy with the scent of fear and uncertainty, and tears streamed down my face, mingling with the dust on the floor. And then, in a cruel twist of fate, the battle reached its devastating conclusion. But despite their efforts, the enemy proved too strong, too relentless. The intruders, with their sinister intentions, succeeded in tearing my parents away from me, leaving me alone and broken. The weight of their absence pressed down on me, suffocating any semblance of hope that remained.
As the dust settled and the silence engulfed the room, I emerged from my hiding place, my body trembling with a mixture of grief and anger. The once vibrant and loving home I had known was now a haunting reminder of the horrors that had unfolded. The walls, once adorned with family portraits and cherished memories, now stood as witnesses to the tragedy that had befallen us. The floor dawned the symbol that the intruders left.
I hadn’t done anything to stop them. I had just cowered under a table. All of that training for nothing. All my courage - gone. All my fear - gone.
I looked down and inspected the symbol. It looked almost like a sun, adorned with swirls around its rays. But a sun was not made of ash.
