The word still jumbled in my brain 'revolution'. The pure solider painfully squeezes my arm as he drags me. At first I thought he was going to put me against fhe wall where the remaining lined up infected lean but instead, he drags me into the middle of the road and handcuffs me. The Cold Metal against my wrists makes my hands colder than before. I'm now hunched kneeling on the concrete. Still with his black opaque visor still open he mutters in spite

"This should give you an idea of the consequences if you put the peace between infected and pure in danger"

Instantly I feel two strong punches in my throat. I collapse on the floor laying sideways and the corners of my vision is black choking for air. Just when I thought it was all over, he kicks me in the stomach several times. I'm now beyond the point of pain. I have given up. Perhaps this is will be not remembered as a start of the rebellion, maybe from me, it's just another pointless probably soon to come death. Marked as the girl who tried to start something, that got punished and beaten to death. Tears race down my face and part of my lip is stained red with my blood. I feel the coldness release from my wrists, this indicates to me that cuffs have been taken off. it's over, is it? I push my torso up my with my hands suddenly I feel a final slam into my face.

"Did I tell you to get up? now go before i change my mind"

My vision is less darker around the edges and is almost restored. I begin to quickly shuffle across the rest road onto the pathway scrapping my knees as I go. Silence still in the atmosphere, I am in front of me and my grandmothers house now. The door still swung open from where i had last exited. I look back across the street and the pure soilder had returned to the other side of the street where the remaining infected still where with his visor now covering his face again. I drag myself through the door and push it shut until I hear the clicking of the lock. I hear a wailing bang. Another infected down. Putting all my weight against the door i am slouched staring down at myself. My blue pastel dress now red on parts and small stones and gravel lodged in my knee crinkles, it must of happened when I dragged myself across the street. my face feels numb with the exception tears and the feeling of the warm blood spilling from my cuts.

It's silent.

To silent.