The sounds of glass being thrown, crashing, turning into smithereens of the desert, stabs into my ears like a dagger. My shaky hands wildly throw themselves onto both sides of my head, clamping and clawing at my ears in desperation. There isn’t a moment to think, just to simply toss yourself into what could be the pit of the end or the continuation of spring, none of which sound too enthralling to me.

My eyes go focused, before becoming unfocused once again and focused once more. This repeats for an unknown amount of time, yet in my mind it is quite fast. Perhaps its due to the fact my mind is buzzing with anticipation and fear of the noises reaching between my interlocked hands and ears and slipping so far down to shed blood. Or perhaps, its because my body feels the need to ignore the actual problem. Theres cold beads of sweat that dribble down my spine, sending a tingle throughout my hot body and boils me alive like the earths core at best and like hell at worst.

There isn’t much to do except shake and feel the flaky dryness reach your twisted lips and your cheeks where tears that streamed have died down and it feels empty, it feels as empty as their corpses that have drained of blood and color, of hue and any spark of life has diminished from their now charcoal black eyes. Their carcasses shredded and swarming with flies and maggots who eat the insides, and even now, you seem to question, how and why have you come to this point in time? Who knows, perhaps it was your fault or perhaps the others. All you know is chaos and despair, and that is all you will know until you shrivel up into onion skin, whenever that time shall come.