DYSTO.PIA

Prologue

Tuesday, January 19th, 2090.
All I can remember.

Red flashes, followed by a large bang filled the air. It is time. We all knew it, despite the silence of the classroom. It was an unwritten rule, when this day were to come, we would remain silent.
Since the dawn of time, AKA my birthday, January 29, 2074. Some people call it a god complex, but me, I just call it main character syndrome. Either way, all my beliefs no longer matter, all of those nights pondering if this were a simulation, fake. They will no longer matter, I repeat, no. longer. matter.

I can recall, first day of daycare at Little Angels Day Academy. Vaguely, yet, still recallable, something I often reminded my mother. Teary eyed, I reluctantly marched into the dimly lit classroom. Dimly lit was an understatement, and my confused 4 year old self thought the world was ending. Turns out, it wasn't.

But, it is now.

Either way, first day of daycare, we learnt about The Day. I don't like mentioning it, I really don't. I wish I didn't have to, but in order for you to understand where I am now, it's kind of necessary.
Exactly ten years and six months ago, I was rehearsing for this day. We practiced day after day following that, with each passing hour, new plethora of teachers, and each new grade.

I mean, sure, I flunked grade nine but I always passed The Day tests.
Always.

Failing this was never an option. They knew. We knew. Everyone knew. It was a truth so painful, and so usually mentally distant that nobody believed it would ever happen. At least, I didn't.

Yet, here I am, hidden in the closet of classroom 109.

Yet, here they are, gone.

It was silent. All that could be heard was the faint, rapid beats of my heart. The only thing that solidified my reality.

I was alive, and they weren't.