Fear grows in me in crescendo. Dad Christophe is no longer here. No shouting, no fighting, no clamor. Only death. I clumsily climb towards the nearby woods but my mind is drifting out of consciousness. “Marie?” My legs are tangled with anxiety. The residents around me still died under the cover of the fractured moonlight. Layers of darkness flood my mind along with waves of terror. I'm terrified. More than terrified. My heart beats like a dead fish without hope. Here comes the agony and nausea. My fear begins to tear at my flesh and my mind is wracked with despair. Machetes and callous guns are everywhere, all bathed in the blood of my tribe. The disgusting smell stings me and agitates my bodily functions. Every detail of this death scene is now seared into my brain. “Marie? Marie wake up. “Thousands and thousands of abandoned bodies lie across the fields in a ruby ​​pool of blood; their faces are filled with hatred, as if they look at this flagrant world with disgust even as they reach their end. The air I breathe becomes more and more stale; every breath I take is acc...