I didn't cry.

A part of me definitely wanted to curl up and cry, but I didn't. I was probably in shock.

I wondered what would happen in a few hours, and then what would happen a few hours after that. If the night stayed quiet straight through till morning, would things liven up then, once the sun came up? Would anything change over night?

I stayed in the train station long after my train's scheduled arrival time, thinking about my options. At some point I backtracked and moved to a bench up in the lobby. There, I stared out at the street. At nothing and at everything. Waiting.

A bolt of brilliance never hit me. But how could I expect it to when I wasn't doing anything? I had to do something. 

The only action I could come up with was to walk, so that was what I did. With my book bag in tow, I walked. Home was too far away to aim for on foot so I retraced my steps and went back to the nearest safe place: school. I was a little afraid of what  I would find there. Would the campus be dead, too? The vision didn't exactly give me warm fuzzy feelings, but I had no other choice.

So I walked and kept walking.

My bag was weighing me down. There were no real textbooks in it, but I did have an impressive stack of notes and a full water bottle, among other trinkets. It didn't sound like much, but lugging the weight around started to wear on me. I could feel myself leaning forward for momentum. 

I was so distracted by my discomfort that oncoming headlights didn't register as something remarkable at first. But once the vehicle got closer, it was like getting hit head-on.

Vehicle. Vehicles meant people.

There were other people.

 
I couldn't take another step. My initial reaction had been a surge I couldn't make sense of. Then, instead of being ecstatic, I was itching to run.

Run away.

Something was wrong with the car coming towards me. Cars, actually, since there was more than one. Or maybe there was something wrong with me and not the cars. How could there be something wrong with the cars?

I didn't want there to be something wrong with the cars. Why couldn't they just be there to save me?

The cars -- or SUVs, as they turned out to be -- kept advancing. The closer they came, the more pressure pressed down on me. I needed to move. If I didn't want them to catch up to me or pass me by, I needed to move. 

Why couldn't I move?

The bad energy that came off the cars intensified as they approached. Every cell in my body was quivering, making my skin prickle and hair stand on end. In the deepest part of my gut there was a pull, something urging me out of my spot.

The headlights from the leading car hit me. Blinded, I stood stark still. Soon, though, I found myself lurching back, bringing my body away from the road and into the shadow of the shops.

The convoy passed me by one by one until five sets of tail lights were retreating. I watched them go. Was I supposed to feel smug or stupid?

I inched away from the wall once the cars were far enough away, but I kept my eyes on them. They hadn't slowed down so they must not have seen me. That or they just didn't care. Maybe I really was making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe everyone in the world was just busy. Not seeing anyone didn't mean they were all gone.

I let out a breath and steered forward, back into the heart of the sidewalk. I still looked after the cars but I was a smidge more at ease.

The road was straight and went on for a while. Four of the SUVs continued to follow it, but one’s -- the last one in the line’s -- break lights came on. That car slowed down before making a U-turn.

And then it was heading back for me.

I didn't want to jump to conclusions. I might not have been the reason they were turning around. Why would I have anything to do with it? Or they might just want directions. Maybe they were confused, too, and needed my help.

But somehow, I didn't think so.

I pivoted on my heel and turned in the same direction the car was going. The path of its headlights projected in front of me, forming into brighter, more compact beams. It was getting closer.

As casually as possible (although the palpitating of my heart was anything but casual), I veered off into the nearest alley way. It was narrow but relatively clean, as far as alleys went. I slowed down once I got a good ways in it to listen.

It took some work to pick out the background noise from the thunder of my breathing, but I did hear an engine running. And then I didn’t hear an engine running. I heard people running.

So I, naturally, started running too.

I broke away from the straight path almost as early as I could, hoping I’d managed to turn before anyone who might have been behind me was able to cath sight of me. That earliest turn brought me through a door rather than down another path, so I basically broke into a building. The interior was pristine and professional, and I felt more like a trespasser than ever. Still, I sprinted across the lobby, making a racket as I ran. There was no one at the circulation desk and no one milling around – no one to tell me off or tell me to do any different.

I didn't want to look back. Maybe I just afraid of what I'd find. What if the people after me weren't actually people? I didn't know what else the could be, but there were a lot of things I didn't know. If my pursuers were people and they didn't want to hurt me, they could have just called out and asked me to stop. They could have told me they were good guys and saved us all the trouble.

But they didn't. They kept chasing me. I heard them enter the lobby when I had just about gotten to the other side of it. I wasn't sure if they started moving any faster at that point, but I definitely did. Fight or flight kicked in, hard core.

I dashed to the nearest door and yanked it open. It was lighter than I'd thought it be, and I almost toppled over when my balance got thrown off. Once I steadied myself I launched into what turned out to be a stair way. Within a split second, I decided to go down it.

Some part of my mind scoffed at the choice I'd made. I could hear it grousing out, "What good ever came from a basement? You're diving into your own grave, er." But what other choice did I have?

It was dark when I made it out of the staircase and into a hallway. There were lights but they weren't any windows. I must have been underground, literally buried alive. Great.

I kept moving and kept my mind focused on moving. I didn't waste the time or effort to pause and listen for anyone behind me. Frankly, I didn't want to know.

I really didn't have any strategy in mind either. I went where my feet took me. The scenery was all a bleak blur up until I passed through one particular threshold into an open room. It was brighter than the hall I'd been streaking through and completely empty. There was no furniture or decorum; it made me think of a small gymnasium, or some kind of training room. That was a little unsettling.

I stumbled to a near stop as I entered, wanting to assess the whole thing better before bursting in. It could have just been the situation itself, but something felt off about the room. 

I was more or less tip-toeing in to begin with, but my pace picked up the deeper I got. I took in every detail that I could, passing through as quickly as I could. There really wasn't much to see, until I happened to look up.

Contrary to what I had assumed, I wasn't underground. The ceiling had a single block of glass panes, sort of like a skylight. If it'd been day time, sunlight would have been streaming in. As it was, I got a view of the night sky. Of the moon.

That damned moon.

Somehow I hadn't even thought to check it out when I'd been outside, but there it was. The moon was there, high and silver, shadowed six eighths of the way so only a crescent was glowing. I didn't know how to tell if it was just a normal moon, either waxing or waning, or if if there was another object blocking the light -- like another moon.

That other damned moon.

I glared at the moon above me. It looked so mystical and unassuming. How could it do so much damage?

And with that, I was reminded of the fact that I was being sniffed out by a bunch of mystery men. And I was just standing there, staring at the moon.

I couldn't have been sky gazing for more than a few seconds, but those few seconds could have been the death of me. In a panic, I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone had caught up. 

Sure enough, a figure loomed between me and the doorway I'd come in through.

It was a boy. A young man, maybe around my age. He was shrouded in black. His clothing color and his features were dark; the complexion of his skin was milky but his hair and eyes were onyx, too. His eyes especially were ultra intense, pinning me in place and keepings my lungs from exchanging oxygen for CO2.

I felt the chokehold let up immediately when the boy's eyes left mine. There was no reason to breathe a sigh of relief, though, since he only looked away to turn to the four masked men who'd just joined us, entering the room behind the boy.

I was stuck between a rock and a hard place; stuck between two unknown enemies.

 
And, with no way of defending myself or calling for help, I could only blame the moon.