The house was smelling like fresh bread and polished wood. I sat gently on my stool, swinging my legs while still holding my favorite doll. My parents were always talking about business; this time, they were at the grand dining table, their voices were low but serious.
"Jonathan, are you sure this is...wise?" my mother whispered. I saw fingers trembling over her teacup. I knew she was worried.
"It might be, Evelyn," my father replied, his voice was weary but firm. "We can't keep running. They'll come for us eventually, you know, we can't keep running."
My mother let out a disappointed sigh, "...Yes, I know that I know we can't keep running," she said. "That is why we have to be prepared... for her sake," my father replied, his voice steady.
I knew I didn't understand anything, but I saw the sharp look they exchanged once my father dropped the statement. That's when I knew something was definitely wrong.
"What do you mean, 'for her sake'?" I asked, my small voice barely above a whisper.
My mother glanced at me and then forced a smile. "Nothing, darling. It's just some... adult worries. Don't worry, go play with your doll."
I knew something was wrong, and they didn't want to tell me. I just let it slide so that she wouldn't get mad.
I held my doll tighter but didn't move.
Jonathan, my father, took a deep breath. "April, listen to what I have to say carefully: Whatever happens, ensure you always listen to me and your mother. Promise me."
"I promise," I replied, nodding, but didn't quite understand what all of 'this' was about all of a sudden.
Before my father could even speak again, the door burst open and shadows quickly filled the room. They were masked intruders who just stormed in; their guns were glinting in the candlelight.
"April! Go now!" my father shouted.
I didn't even fully get his words, but my legs just started running, and my heart was pounding in my ears. And then I stumbled into my room, and the polished marble floors were a little slippery under my feet.
"Lock yourself in the closet! Hurry!" my father called behind me.
I slammed the closet door and pressed my back against the wood. My body shook as I tried to calm my racing heart.
Then I heard a gunshot. It came once, then again. The last thing I remember hearing was the sound of my parents calling my name.
I peeked through the slats of the closet. I saw them: my parents: my father and mother falling, blood spreading across the floor. My stomach twisted, as a scream caught in my throat.
Flames began to crawl along the edges of the room, smoke curling into the corners. I gagged, tears blinding me.
"I have to... get out..." I whispered to myself, scrambling towards a window, my hands went raw from scratching the frame.
I pushed, shoved, and tumbled through the glass. I landed in the thick bushes below, pain shooting through my small body. My head hit a branch, and afterward my vision blurred.
The last thing I felt was the cold night air against my skin.
Darkness swallowed me.