The Incident - Olivia Flanz

“I know it’s been a week since the incident.”

Everything always goes so fast. Like a shooting star that you can miss if you blink. Sounds romantic, doesn’t it? In reality, shooting stars are just a bunch of metal tearing through our atmosphere; ready to desolate anything in its path. If only I could rest my eyes a little longer. 

“But the higher-ups have been talking and it’s time that we figure out the next step for all of you.”

You might say I’m wasting my time, but it’s not like caring will suddenly stop the clock from ticking. One day it’ll just stop. 

Everything is predetermined. Everything is bound to happen one way or another. 

“Many organizations have volunteered to help.”

Why are those ticks so loud? 

“I know you're all still grieving.”

Why doesn’t it stop? 

“It may not seem like it now but things will get better.”

What if I broke it? What if I just ripped it out? 

And like that, it would be over.

No time. No place. No me. 

“We all know this event was bound to happen.”

Then again “me” was predetermined. “Me” was bound to happen. 

“Just know that you're not alone.”

Me.

“Kid?”

My breathing. 

Inhaling. 

Exhaling. 

“The rest of your group already left.”

Trying. 

I’m trying. 

I’m really trying, 

but it’s just not working.

“Can you hear me?”

I’m not working, but the clock is.

“Kid!”

I blinked. The man before me was squeezing my shoulder. He must have felt me tensing up since he ripped his hand away from me; as if he was burned. When he finally stepped back I immediately recognized his uniform; just another government worker. His deep-ringed eyes seemed to be searching for something. I guess this was the part where I say something. 

“Sorry, but where am I?” I swallow.

The man stiffened. “We’re in the auditorium. Your group just left.” 

Ah yes. My group. All I could remember was the worn-out clothes attached to the smoked and bruised bodies. No faces. 

“Where’s my family?”

The man let out an audible sigh as he looked around, searching for something. If I was dumb I would have assumed he’s looking for my family. I suddenly felt light-headed. 

“You know what happened…right?” the man asked hesitantly. It was a question, but his words felt like they were trying to convince me of a fact. “Earth…” 

He didn’t continue the sentence. He didn’t need to. 

“Oh, right.”

Earth was gone.