All my family members, posing and smiling for an imaginary photograph in my mind – a heart-warming mental reminder that they were there for me, cared for me as much as I cared for them.

However, one day the photo cracked where my mother was. Her face split in two. No, the photo didn't actually crack. It was a puzzle, getting slowly undone as time was going by and hurting my family and me.

Then, my brother was gone. His face and body experienced the same fate. Piece by piece, he was gone from the picture.

Next, my father. I was alone.

A ruthless, anger-driven hand had slammed on the table of my world, and the puzzle that my entire life was shook, scattering the pieces in the air and undoing who I was while making all those pieces carelessly fall on the floor down below.

That was what Apollo and the clones had done to me until that fateful Wednesday.

Apollo had shot my father in the head – and I had witnessed it from afar, while Peace Square sent an ocean of deep-red blood down the drain that Wednesday evening. And down it went, into the underground guts of the city, and into the madly polluted sea in the east.

Our blood had become the blood that an entire city had shed, not just my community. With that action, Fortune, both the song and the concept, was calling for vengeance with the music of every drop of that blood. And those traditional-human cries which had thundered in Peace Square would soon be paired with similar echoes, uttered by hopeless, clone mouths.

But that wasn't me pledging vengeance.

No, that was the tale written on Sigi's face when he witnessed Apollo shooting my father dead and hearing my subsequent soul-shattering cry. The contorted expression on his face had the intensity of an undying wildfire.

Seeing a beloved person die like that made some things crystal clear for me, like feeling like I was a goner. My hope had evaporated like water in a pot on the stove.

However, only one tiny, little detail remained blurry: why had my father yelled "Hecuba Regina" right before dying?

The two words were written on the back of my dear red alarm clock.

"We have to hurry!" Sigi exclaimed.

Sigi and I were both panting. We had run to the front door of my home. I got the keys and opened the door in a hurry. He had parked his bike at a safe distance from the door in case the Black Masks came while we'd be inside. We had fled from Peace Square on his bike safe and sound, and then it was time to salvage what I needed from home and flee once more.

Luckily, my home was still standing and unburnt. The Black Masks must have been busy until that moment, but I wouldn't consider myself lucky until we both got out and fled, never to return again. It saddened me beyond anything describable, but after seeing my father get shot and killed, I didn't think it possible to suffer even more.

I could not lose a single second. I rushed into my bedroom, grabbed a black backpack, and stuffed some clothes in it while Sigi was standing in the living room, facing the open door of my bedroom. I also grabbed Daniel's favourite manual from the shelves, my mysteriously relevant red alarm clock, my Kolibri from the socks drawer, a few tools, and a toothbrush.

When I went back to the living room, I gasped because I realised I was missing something vital:

"My mother's treasure box!"

"Go, hurry!" he exclaimed as if he couldn't wait to flee from the place.

I entered my parents' bedroom, opened their wardrobe, and took out a dark wood medium-sized box. It was the nicest one there. Since I had never seen it before, I briefly opened it to check I wasn't mistaking it for something else.

Yes, my mother's blue dress was there. Some smaller jewellery boxes, too. Yes, that was the one! I shut it close, and that was when the awful sound of breaking glass startled me.

"Fuck!" I heard Sigi exclaim in anger from the living room.

I put the box in my backpack and hurried back to him. But before I crossed the threshold, I saw a photo in a frame on my father's nightstand. The four of us, together. Daniel was just a two-year-old. I stuffed it in my backpack as well.

When I came into the living room, a window was broken. A Molotov cocktail had smashed it. I saw Sigi trying to put out the fire with a sofa blanket, but it was no use. My home was a burning hazard, to be honest. We lived in a slum, so the materials were cheap and easy to burn.

"We have to flee... NOW!" he yelled.

I nodded. He discarded the blanket, took my hand and pulled me to the front door while I heard more windows breaking in other rooms.

"Wait!" I exclaimed. "Frankie!"

We were close to the garage door inside my home, in the hall. I put my hand on the doorknob, but it was burning hot. I shrieked and retrieved my hand due to the unexpected heat. A Molotov cocktail must have hit the garage's small window, broken it, and started to burn everything in its path. If I wanted to save Frankie, I needed to open that door – and fast.

Then, I heard a loud crashing sound from behind the door. Something huge must have fallen due to the fire, probably the wooden shelves where some of my tools and other essentials were.

Sigi tried to knock the door down with a violent hit from his right shoulder and arm, but the door didn't give it. He tried again, but it was no use.

"Something must be blocking it on the other side!" he yelled in frustration.

"Let's try the garage's main door outside!"

We went out, watchfully. The Black Masks could be waiting for us out there. Sigi went out first.

"They've fled already!" he yelled with mild satisfaction. "Come on, hurry!"

I went out and tried to open the garage's main door, but the metal must have expanded due to the heat of the fire inside. The key had turned in the lock, but the door refused to go up.

I cursed over and over. Sigi tried to help me lift the bloody door, but it was jammed.

"Wait! Is there gasoline inside?" he asked me with concern.

"Yes, in Frankie's tank," I admitted, and then my face got paler. "Oh fuck."

As soon as I said that, an explosion went off. The metal door shuddered violently. I shrieked. Both Sigi and I got startled and took a few steps back. He did most of the job by pulling me away by my arms.

"No, no, NO!" I yelled in despair and put both hands on my cheeks.

I noticed that the left-lower side of the metal door had been torn open inside out, and a spit of fire raged through the hole.

"I assume you may have some grease and oil, too?" Sigi asked me then.

"A small tank I keep on the right side of the garage."

"How big is it?" he asked, while putting both arms on mine, preventing me to come any closer to that door, and looking with suspicion at it.

I was about to reply when another explosion took place, but that time the metal door gave in and burst open roughly. The tongue of fire and hot air that emerged collided with us and pushed us away. We landed on the pavement on the other side of the street.

Sigi had shielded me with his arms. I noticed it when I opened my eyes a few seconds later.

"Are you OK?" I whispered to him when I managed to sit up. My hair was dishevelled, and getting in the way of my eyes, staring at Sigi with worry.

The violent tongue of fire had burnt his black T-shirt's sleeves a little, and the left side of his black jeans too. Thank God that his skin didn't look burnt! My clothes and skin were fine, as well.

"We have to flee from this place," he replied as he sat up too.

He didn't look hurt, and I sighed with relief. Apart from my shoulder ache, there was nothing wrong with me either. We had been lucky.

We stood up. I instinctively turned my face to my old garage. The metal door had been reduced to large bits of partially-melted, weirdly-bent steel. The fire was still violent, but I could recognise Frankie's bits and pieces scattered here and there.

"Frankie,..." I whispered to myself in disbelief. I had lost her too that Wednesday evening.

"We can't stay. I..." Sigi insisted, pulling me by my left arm. "I don't think there's anything left to save. We have to go! NOW!"

I felt him pulling me a lot stronger than before, forcing me to face him, come back to reality, and run with him to his bike.

We got on it in a hurry. I held Sigi tightly with both my arms while he turned on the engine. We completely disregarded our helmets and rode away as if the Devil himself was hot on our trail.

Before we turned on the corner of Spoon Street, my dear old street, I took one last glance back over my shoulder. I would never come back there. However, there was nothing to come back to, to be honest.

All I wanted to do was to lose myself in an ocean of tears – my tears. I couldn't believe it. I had lost almost everything in very little time.

My entire family. My home. And my dear Frankie! She was gone too, consumed by the fire which the egos of a bunch of clone-ass-licking renegades had set alight in my humble home. I guessed that there still were traditional humans who would side with the clones no matter what – yes, no matter what had just happened in Peace Square a few minutes prior.

Being betrayed and punished like that by your own kind. It was sickening beyond anything I had ever imagined.

Hello, my dear sugar cubes!

This fateful Wednesday is Daphne's worst day in her entire life... to date.

Oh, but I'm not even done with her just yet.

Stay tuned to know more!

XOXO

MS