Carnival day:

    Dustin had finally caught up with his sister who was shaking and visibly mentally scarred. She had hid behind a stall of sweet treats crouching, spewing tears. Taking her into his arms, he assured her that everything would be okay. And tightly, she returned the hug. She was placing pressure on the slits and cuts he endured but he swallowed the pain just wanting to levitate his aching heart.

    Hurling past the two was the ambulance. Its presence and deafening sirens brought cars and crowds to a halt as they barged through. And although on the outside Dustin was being strong for his sister, he was scared to death. His teeth clattering, like a choir rehearsing.

    If he hadn't arrived when he did, she would've been caught in the stampede a little lower down.

    He stared into the fleeting ambulance through its back window and swallowed a huge gulp of spit as he saw them tearing off clothes and working their magic. His feet could barely hold him up as he saw them take off a girl's jacket covered in blood. Slowly, he began manually breathing.

    All around him, officers lined up handcuffing males of all ages who were suspected or confirmed to be members of gangs. Every part of their bodies were strip searched and any who attempted to resist was met to the head with a gun. Those males on the other hand weren't getting spooked easily. So, on a power surge, officers took to the skies with their bullets resembling fireworks.

    Anyone spotted in alleys, corners or covering their face was forced to the ground and taken into custody. They were using this night's tragedy to organize against every gang in BerkVille. And just to let them know they weren't playing games, they shot and killed the head of one, Marques, right there in the street.

    The metallic odors of blood and evil intent characterized the entire day.