Prologue

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"What are you doing?" I laugh as Sam squirts the whipped cream into his mouth

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"What are you doing?" I laugh as Sam squirts the whipped cream into his mouth. "You're disgusting!"

"Come on Mils, lighten up!" He grins, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the hard seat. "Molly!" he yells across the field. His beaming, dark haired girlfriend immediately waves back before running towards us.

"Sam, baby!" she squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Emilia!" She turns to smile at me as she continues to hang off her boyfriend.

"Hey!" I exclaim, just as a whistle sounds out from the other side of the pitch.

"I've got to go! Kayla is waiting," Molly says, pecking Sam on the cheek before making her way back over to her friends on the other side of the field.

"God, she's so hot!" Sam mutters, staring after her.

I nudge his shoulder, rolling my eyes as he laughs. "Let's sit down!" I retort, the majority of the row still empty. I look up to see the footballers warming up on the field, their captain Rayden at the centre, yelling instructions to each one.

Molly and a popular group of girls stand off to the side, Kayla at the front, gazing lustfully at Rayden. I scoff at the sight, tearing my eyes away to focus on the food I picked up at the shop on the way. I tear open the bag of crisps, batting Sam's hand away as he tries to grab some.

"Mils, you're no fun!"

"Get your own!" I exclaim and he raises his hand in surrender.

He's the one who forced me to come tonight. I wanted nothing more than to get into my pyjamas and go to sleep, yet here we are at some sort of football match – our school versus the school in the next town over. It's almost like the school is trying to drum up some sort of team spirit like they have in the USA, but honestly, most English teens just aren't interested. It's sad.

I'd almost be fooled by this attempt, but the majority of the school haven't even bothered turning up, all of them having better things to do on their Friday night. I was dragged by Sam, straight after dinner at Annie's Burger Shack, sitting here in my smart, uncomfortable, navy school uniform, another telltale sign that we are in fact, in rainy old England.

Suddenly the whistle sounds once more and Sam's head snaps up to watch as the game kicks off. I watch with disinterest, a sixteen year old girl having far better things to be doing with her time, like checking Instagram. I continue to stuff the crisps into my mouth and within minutes Rayden has scored, the small crowd of navy uniforms erupting into cheers, Kayla and Molly both jumping up and down.

The game continues and just as I finish my packet of crisps the sound of a plane is heard overhead.

I gaze up, distracted by the loudness of its engine, surely too low to be flying over our small city. My eyes immediately fall on one plane, flanked by roughly five others close behind it, all emerging out of the clouds. I stand up from the bench, eyebrows furrowed, confused by their sudden appearance, the ominous presence unexplainable, with the nearest airport over an hour away. Quickly looking around, I notice that everyone else is as curious as me.

Even the game has halted, Rayden in the middle, the ball stopped by his feet. I tear my eyes away, looking back up as more planes appear behind it, the sky suddenly full to the brim with these huge, dark fighter planes, my heart hammering against my chest at the unknown threat.

The crowd begins to get louder, terrified yells erupting around me, and as I look back over the field I notice that Sam has left his spot beside me to run over to Molly, grabbing hold of her in a blind panic.

Rayden is also running towards the group of girls and I notice Kayla's hopeful face before he pushes past her to get to his sister Lola. I feel Kayla's pain in this moment, the many faces in this crowd flying to their loved ones as we are left alone.

Barely five seconds pass before she is flanked by her popular friends and it is only I who has no-one to comfort me.

Instead, my parents will be tucked up in bed with our cockapoo at their feet, reading to their heart's content. My brother will be playing video games on his computer, probably not even able to hear these planes over the sound pouring through his headphones.

I'm alone.

It's in this terrifying moment that the sky erupts into loud splutters over the sound of the engines, and I look up only to see hundreds of round looking objects falling from the planes, down towards us. My heart is in my mouth, panic clawing at my insides. What the fuck is going on?

The crowd screams as I continue to look up, motionless, too shocked to force my limbs to move as the dark objects descend towards us. One lands on the other side of the field, the crowd of footballers and girlfriends around it scattering, running away as fast as they can. It lays there for mere seconds before exploding with a loud bang, sending shrapnel, fire and earth flying everywhere.

I watch as numerous people collapse to the ground, my heart racing as terror takes over the field, shrieks reaching a fever pitch as people begin to barge each other out of the way, attempting to escape the attack.

I see more bombs falling from the sky, reality finally shocking me out of the trance that I am trapped in, my breath manic as I force my legs into a run. I battle my way through the crowds of fleeing people, fighting against them as they run the opposite way. Flames erupt around me and I stop dead at the sight of the school building, all the way across the other side of the car park, on fire.

Suddenly something erupts to the right of me, a huge bang ringing in my ears as I am thrown sideways, slamming down onto the hard tarmacked floor of the car park, debris falling all around me. My head pounds as I attempt to move, eyes screwed shut as I reach up, hand coming into contact with the sticky substance that now coats my hair. Letting my head fall back to the floor, I curl up, covering my head with my hands as I try to ignore the screams, cries and pleas from everyone around me. There is nothing I can do to help myself, my right leg throbbing, a slab of metal wedged on top of it.

Letting the tears roll down my cheeks I grimace into my hands, letting my emotions run riot as I wait for death.

After all, there are far more casualties in war than there are survivors.

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