The entire apartment unit was upturned. Everywhere, pieces of broken wooden furniture cluttered the floorboard. A single tapestry on a wall had been ripped, obviously just newly destroyed. For shreds of it still floated in the air like snowflakes. A broken table jutted out in the center of the room, and around it broken plates and glass scattered. There was no spilled food or anything, so I assumed Mel's family were preparing for dinner when the chaos erupted.
However, there was a whistling pot behind six people, left alone amidst the havoc of the scene. The soup had become overcooked, a scorched smell filling the air. Black smoke swirled above these six people, whom all had orange hair and freckled faces. Save for one, who could be the father. There were so many Mels in one place. Every one of them bore identical expressions of panic and fear.
