I was not ready.

But let me not get ahead of myself. Since everybody else in this book is telling you guys about what happened to them, I guess I have to too.

The night before

The sun had graciously set. A stark contrast to the weather that followed. The day was a complete disaster and it was almost as if God was flipping us off, as if we hadn't just lost a friend.

After getting through my parents (telling them every small detail of what had happened as they were worried) I settled on my bed.

Like the others, I had tons of homework. It was the final push before preliminaries and then the final exams. Having been in lockdown for the last six months we were understandably stressed. Some did the work, others didn't and the teachers were only breezing through the topics already covered. Panic, stress, anxiety, every other crappy emotion was by us matrics 24/7.

Moving on, I flopped down by my table my finger scrolling through my phone looking for something interesting. It was still quite a while before I could use the wifi.

My eyes drifted to my window. The wind picked up slightly, cold and harsh swirling throughout the room. As I moved to close it I took a moment to admire my two Rottweilers running up and down the yard. They were doing a quick lap before diving into the garage.

Woof! One dog barked at the other for whatever reason dogs barked. The second turned around and did the same. For a good few minutes they barked at one another.

Or at least I thought so until my mother shouted. "Why is their dogs barking inside the house?!"

I whipped around, trying to decipher the crazy lady's words. There's no way the barking is inside, I thought. Probably a sign of old age or perhaps echoing through the house. Yet when I looked out again the dogs were gone.

Okay, dogs barking. Not too weird. My brain rationalized it quickly. It was the strangest, weirdest thing happening on this Earth. I mean social injustice was a thing. The fight was still happening even if it wasn't on the news.

I decided to have a mini photo shoot. Self confidence is key. I still had a good half an hour to do my makeup since golden hour was not an option. It was just a matter of theme and which colour would go well with my brown skin.

A smash came from somewhere inside the house. I jumped up and then sat down again. If mom or dad caught me running then I'd easily be blamed for being a busy body. Better to find out naturally like when I go for dinner. I also wasn't in the mood to explain why I have makeup.

Smash. SMASH!

I was out the door and in the living room in a matter of seconds. Thinking back on it I was proud of my quick reaction but it wasn't for anything.

Mom looked up at me. "And then? Who you looking so good for? A date?"

I stared at her, not understanding. "Didn't someone break anything?"

Everyone in the living room shook their heads and continued to tease me about my makeup. The dread in my stomach grew. It had been there since we'd visited Zake's house and grew with every weird event. And yet it didn't feel like the storm had arrived.

Dinner and photoshoot passed, I retired again to my room. This time I scrolled through Instagram on my bed, enjoying the benefits of wifi.

The sound that echoed through the house shocked me. I didn't know what it was. Panic seized me. It took a solid minute for me to identify it as a scream. It took another minute to debate getting up and going to check the origin.

I wasn't brave. If it was broken plates or a dog, normal things I was okay with. Screams, sounds with no origin, these weren't my domain. I didn't even know that these things existed. They tested my religion, my belief.

My brother's heavy footsteps made the decision for me as he sprinted to the origin. I joined him.

My parents room. My mind split into two. One noting details automatically but another reacting to the situation.

My dad pushed himself against the wall, my mother too. Above their headrest was my name, sprawled in massive globs of blue ink.

I will admit I didn't comprehend it at all. Maybe it was because it was a cliché thing, maybe because what really scared me was on my father's chest: three claw marks and a hand in the same ink.