Incipient
I awoke to the sound of yelling and shattering glass. Stumbling out of bed, I clambered over to the window and surveyed the scene below. A sea of people scrambled about on the street in a state of pure anarchy. The blare of gunshots echoed off the buildings, reverberating in the room, and shrieks ensued after. The state of the townspeople allowed my realization to settle, and I knew it was time to follow through with our plan, so I ran into the closet to retrieve my shoes and bag. Zayn's words echoed through my head along with Louis and Harry's advice on managing my hysteria.
"It will all be over soon. I promise."
"Take deep breaths and just remember that the quicker you get out, the sooner everything will be calm again."
"And don't be afraid to kick some ass. I know you've got it in you Rose."
I didn't bother locking the door or closing the window; I won't be returning. More individuals rushed about in the hallway and stairwell; I narrowly avoided becoming part of the scarlet carpet. After descending the narrow, crammed staircase, I reached the main lobby and didn't hesitate to exit the front doors.
Being in the midst of the chaos was even worse than watching it as I was pushed and shoved about from passersby. I assumed the warmth was accumulated body heat but soon understood otherwise. It radiated from a roaring fire at the corner of the streets. Flames licked the night sky emerging from a building ablaze that only grew with every passing second. It was hard to discern individuals from government soldiers; their gear, only observed from close range, distinguished the two.
I turned to my left and charged down the sidewalk, weaving in and out of people. The farther I got from the fire, the colder the air got, the less the smoke burned my eyes, and I was thankful for grabbing my thicker jacket while dodging fights between civilians and military. Soldiers, the ones expected to protect us, were deliberately killing innocent bystanders. A glance between bodies and across the street exposed citizens lined against the brick wall. Men in uniform glared at them, holding guns, knives, and other weapons as threat. Some of the people in line appeared dangerous but scattered in between were some children seemingly as young as five years old. Children that would, hopefully, grow up meanwhile never trusting men in uniform, or anyone, for protection until the day they die. I forced myself to ignore the injustice occurring all around. My intensive aerobic training with Liam coupled with the adrenaline rush I was currently experiencing became a vital edge to my performance agility and speed. In the midst of my tunnel vision I did not notice the person on the ground in front of me until my ankle caught in their ribs and I made contact with the asphalt. I threw my arms out in front of myself to break the fall, but one hand stayed on the curb of the concrete and failed, while the other slapped the street. My fingernails dug into the ground, and I gritted my teeth when a boot stepped in front of my face as I looked up to see a soldier staring down at me. The fury in his eyes was terrifying and I rose to my feet while scurrying away from him. My steps backward were matched by a step of his, twice the length of mine, forward until my backpack met brick. His hand went behind his back and I discreetly reached for the knife in my pocket the boys suggested I have at all times once talks of revolution began. His arm began moving to the side, ready to reveal what was in his hand, most likely a gun or other weapon of the sort, and the handle of my knife dented my palm from the vice it was in. Just as he made another step forward and I began to take stance, the soldier was tackled to the ground in a blur. Another man, another civilian, was on top of him, furiously attacking in a mess of punches. I heard the soldier's nose break under his fist and his skull slam repeatedly into the ground.
"Go!"
I wanted to thank my savior or at least see his face, but everything was orange: orange shirt, orange head, orange arms, apart from the blood which was almost black on the concrete and dribbling into the street.
