People run never looking back. People scream without a fear of doubt. No one is left but the silence of an old abandoned town. Doors captured at the sight of being flung open, windows shattered. The sky’s a dark grey one that I can remember. Dark like the solid, rich color we know as black. The terrifying faces shook me awake to the sight of reality. Death looked upon me as I stood alone. Its deceiving shadows following the light of forgiven faith. Shrieking calls against the sound of angles. Beyond my presences was a burning spirit. It told me to “believe what you think, and think what you’re willing to believe”. Not a word spoke but the echo from his voice. Creating a solemnly sorrow of the wrongs I had been taught. The wrongs flashing at me that I had achieved. Turning for a quick glance behind me I noticed another unfamiliar thought of who I might have become. When I was only a little girl nothing overcame the welcoming of a new beginning. One I had been longing for shortly after an incident I could not accept. The killing of someone I was close to, someone I loved and truly cared about. A person I related myself too, completely. My empowering sole gone. Pushing aside the tears streaming down my frozen cheek. Hoping that faith would reclaim me again. However what I did was not forgettable only imprinted its diminishing reactions to my memories. Never escaping, always pondering. Crucial flashbacks, making my palms nervously sweat. Frightened that people would assume the fleeing of our once civilized town that broke loose was because of me.