Guns and Fire

BANG.
That was your neighbor, your best friend throughout your whole life.

Once a week, past midnight, all is silent except for the incoherent yelling, shots fired every second, almost as if people die on a schedule. Whether it's two miles south of you or right outside your door. As soon as daylight arrives, all is silent. You don't trust the silence, so you stay in bed.

Most people would rather die than feel the pain come shooting at you. Some don't stay in bed. Some would rather die than live here so badly that they go outside. Not a single person is seen outside after sunset without a death wish.
It's worse when it's not you, however.
Your family, siblings, pets; you have to live without them.

That smoke?
Your parents have been crying ever since you noticed it.

There are many different fires, some that we don't even know about because, by the time everyone gets there to see what happened, it's gone. Disappeared without a trace. Somehow it hasn't come to the center of the city, only on the outer areas.

I have to live here. I have to deal with all of this.

I call it... Heat Death.

However.
There is something creeping when the smoke has cleared. I don't know what, but I can feel it.
I swear, the world is slowly crumbling beneath us.