Everything happened in a blur.
One minute, I was curled up on the couch, laughing at something ridiculous my brother Adam had said. His jokes were always stupid but somehow, they always made us laugh like idiots.
Across the room, my mother sat on her favorite velvet sofa, gently braiding my little sister's hair. Her hands moved with practiced grace, while my sister giggled and squirmed beneath her touch. The room was glowing with warmth and love and filled with the kind of laughter that made a house feel like home.
I should've paid more attention.
To the way their eyes sparkled when they smiled.
To the rhythm of their laughter, and the peace in that moment.
Because that was the last time I'd ever hear it.
The explosion ripped through the walls with a deafening roar.
My world—our world—shattered in a heartbeat.
The windows blew out. The ceiling cracked open. Smoke poured in like a living thing. And then came the screams; sharp, terrified, and echoing through the ruins of our once cozy home.
Armed men burst through the haze, their faces cold and merciless.
I was on the floor before I even realized I'd fallen, my ears ringing, heart racing. I twisted around frantically, searching through the chaos for my family.
Adam was gone and so was my sister.
Then my eyes locked on my mother, she was trapped beneath a collapsed wall, her hand trembling as she tried to push herself free.
I crawled toward her, debris cutting into my palms.
"Mom!"
I was inches away. My fingers almost touched hers.
Then…five thunderous gunshots.
Her hands stopped moving.
She stopped moving.
And her blood pooled on the floor beneath her.
Something inside me broke. I didn't even scream. I couldn't.
The men turned toward me, weapons raised. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the end.
More gunfire erupted. But none of it touched me.
Instead, I felt arms around me—strong, urgent.
I was lifted off the ground like I weighed nothing. My head lolled against a broad shoulder, my body too weak to fight.
Everything was spinning. I couldn't focus.
But then a voice—low, rough, commanding—cut through the darkness.
"Keep your eyes open, princesa."
And then, nothing.
Only black.
Only silence.