Explosions rock the earth. Buildings shake and collapse on top of themselves, and dust begins to fill the air. The screams of the people drown out most other sounds. I cannot keep on my feet. The earth is shaking too much for me to even stand up. The cataclysms don't seem to end. After all this destruction, I believe it's best to find some cover where my thoughts can catch up with me. I see a small isolated area of the city that isn't totally destroyed and begin to run to it. It is a short run, but the difference is dramatic. It's like I'm in a totally new city. The screaming seems to have stopped, and all the buildings aren't destroyed. I take a moment to catch my breath. The worst seems to be over. After looking up, numbers clot my vision. I don't know how I can see them. It isn't like they are tangible and I can't stop seeing them, 0318203. These numbers don't mean anything special, but it sounds like a date of some sort, March 18th?

I'm broken out of my reverie by a huge crash, and see the large building behind me start to fall. The shadow of its crash course darkens my view. I run to try to get out-of-the-way, but the earth starts to shake again. I barely dodge being flattened and crushed, and I'm sent off my feet by another tremor. The dust clears, and a lone girl is standing where the remains of the old building were. She looks like she's badly cut and bleeding. She stares at me.

"Y-You need to get out of here, get to safety!" I scream out at her, trying to warn her.

She walks closer, holding one arm behind her back. A tear forms in her eye. She's crying, why?

"I'm sorry," is all I hear, and she pulls out a gun, and points it at me.

She pulls the trigger. My vision goes dark.

One word appears in the total darkness.

Sarah.

I wake up in my bed, panting and sweating. I look outside to see if everything is okay. A thick sheet of glittery snow covers our lawn. It's almost like it's from a painting or something like that. My name is John Rein, and I'm sixteen years old. I mainly just try to 'fit in' and not cause trouble. I live in a small suburb of New York, So contrary to popular belief; it's usually pretty quiet here.

I get dressed for the morning, nothing too special. Just a black shirt and some jeans. I walk downstairs and my parents are fighting again as usual. I try my best to ignore the excess noise.

"Why don't you get up and get a job?" My mother would say.

"Why don't you get off my back?" My father would always reply.

I'm silently praying I can just slip through unnoticed. I get to the door and I'm about to open it-

"Where do you think you're going?!" my father yells, slouching then eventually hobbling over to me.

He may have put on a bit of weight, but he still towers over me. I don't even see the resemblance between us. I'm practically a twig while he is this huge monster man. His hair is thick and greasy while mine is kept short and thin. One of those mysteries of life I guess.

"I'm heading out," I reply.

"Out where, exactly?"

"Just out," I lower my head.

My father gets this stern look in his eye when he is about to hit me, I can see it from a mile away. I can feel it too.

"Don't you be a smart-ass, where are you going?" He raises his voice, shaking his hand at me.

I can't breathe; the force of it all sent me against the wall.

"S-Sorry, sir. I'm heading over to a friend's house."

"What friend? You don't have any friends." I see a vein pop out on his forehead.

"I-I'm sorry. I meant…the…the park." I cringe, not wanting to get hit again.

"Bah! Go on, get out of here. I don't want to see your sorry hide today anyway." He grumbles and hobbles back into the kitchen.

I open the door, and run outside, just wanting to get away from it all.

Outside I finally feel free. I hate that I'm making footprints in the snow. It ruins the image that was once there. It cannot really be helped, can it? The cold winter air is as refreshing as it is blood chilling. Either way, it is better than staying in at home on this beautiful Saturday morning. It's only about five minutes away, and it really looks beautiful covered by winter's blanket. I begin my walk to the park. This is also the time to think.

A lot has changed in the world since I was born, the year is 2031. Believe it or not, technological advancement has been kind of at a standstill. Ever since Hal Valhart took control of the American government back in 2027, human advancement has stopped pretty much completely. Valhart was the leader of a faction known as 'The Couriers'. They were a covert operation that apparently flawlessly staged a coup and took control. Ever since then, we've been cut off from news or anything from any other part of the world. We've become isolated. The entire west coast is under full control, as Valhart relocated the capital of America to somewhere in California. There is still some resistance on the east coast, so we have some free will, yet everyone knows it's only a matter of time until he comes for us.

I try not to think about it too much, it's all depressing, and it ruins the view of what we have here, today. The world is sort of magical early in the morning, and it feels like time has stopped. The whole planet can just take a breath and relax. It doesn't take me long to reach the park. Like I had expected, there is hardly anybody here, aside from people doing the same thing as me, escaping from life. One person catches my notice immediately, a girl about my age, sitting on the nearby bench. She has beautiful blonde shoulder length hair, and bright blue eyes. She's drawing on what seems to be a canvas. Although it's not her features that catch my attention, really. It's who this girl is.

She's the girl from my dream.

Sarah.