To Arms! 3B

You quickly rush to your little sister's room. She is already awake, huddling in the corner of her room, her doll held tight in her arms. 

"Muneah, it's all right, come with me. Help me wake up Salemon."

She quickly runs to you and grabs hold of your arm. You both head to your little brother's room.

He's still asleep on his bed, and you feel terrible waking him up, especially in these circumstances, but you don't have time to spare.

Though they are young, both of your siblings seem to know exactly what is going on. They know the country is under attack. What else would the blaring bells outside be for? They certainly aren't church bells, calling you to pray. They are desperate bells, begging you to grab all of your dearest possessions and flee, or grab your sharpest swords and fight.

You know that you will be fleeing with the children this time. You aren't quite old enough to fight and not even close to tall enough. You are a mere 6 feet tall, while all of the warriors have to be at least 7 feet. Yet, you still have a lot of growing to do.

Somehow your father has managed to wake your mother. They are both standing outside, preparing to depart. When you reach them they have all the valuables packed into four little backpacks. 

Four.

You look to your father. He is placing thick leather wraps over his forearms. He already has armor covering his chest. 

"What are you doing?" you ask, but he just looks at you and motions towards the escape tunnel. His earlier joking behavior has vanished so quickly.  

You grab your bags and go with your siblings and mother into the dark passageway under the stairs, looking back at your father's silhouette one last time. He was placing a helmet on his head.

You swallow but continue deeper into the tunnel, unable to disobey his one silent command: "Go." 

It breaks your heart but there is no other choice. 

It all happens so fast. You never thought war to be such a solid form, imposing on your household as if it swept away all your voices under the rug, like you used to do with the dust when you were too lazy to sweep it out the door. 

You spend days walking through dark tunnels alongside your family. When the tunnels connect from other houses, more families join your group. All the families wear the same sullen expression, each missing loved ones.

When you finally emerge into daylight, you are blinded by the stark sun, it's glare streaming in through a thin layer of clouds. 

You come out on a hill, and you turn back to see the direction from which you have come.

In the distance you can make out your city. 

It is smoking and flaming. All the buildings lay in ashy heaps on the ground. 

There is nothing left. All you can see, advancing even faster than the clouds, is the Scorps. 

They are coming. 

The End

-R.H.