Pain-filled screams from the train behind me. And I'm no man.Shadows run in the dark around me. And I am no man.And I was running far away. And I am no manThe wind picks me up from the soles of my hair to the strands of my hair. And I am no man.My heart thuds, my shoes come off, and the dark scares me. Big man no punch. And I'm on the ground.I soften my fall and I want to go home, back to my soft bed.I look back and Marlene is on the floor with a crazed man on her. I turn around to keep running for I am no man.Not a man is not a human. Not a man is a sissy. A woman. But the woman was carved from the man, so I still am a man.I turn around strong. I might be a sissy but I am human. Honey stands to the side, surprised. I tackle him to the ground and Honey moves to help Marlene back up.I hold the man back down and twist his ankle to dislocate it. Characteristic of living things is they need to be able to move. He is now disabled and on the floor.I hear snarls from more. I don't know if it's the coach or Kai. Doesn't sound human.Take me home. I turn and I leave my shoes on the floor, I grab my bag. My future can still be fixed. I still have The Acceptance Letter.I hop and skip on the gravel and the grounds clear to light rain. The shadows are gone and I come out courageous.I almost grab a sliver of light when I am once again on the ground. I throw him off me and he only skates a few yards away from me. In the blink of an eye the septuagenarian is once more on me. He moves like a cheetah.I kick him hard and his head hits a rock just to the side, red colors pool and drip onto the gray gravel but he stands up. Characteristics of living things is reaction to external stimuli such as pain. The old man before me doesn't have any. He is no man. Not a pussy as he swipes to get to my neck and tries to scratch my face.He is no human.I look up to the heavens, my face part covered by darkness and by light. I look back into the tunnels and from afar I hear screeches. I look to Marlene and Honey but they also see the Crazed come our way. So honey drags her by her arm and she sends one last look at me and follows him.They leave me here alone. That is...not humane.I dig under and fling the man as far away as I, he flies above me and lands a couple of yards at the foot of Marlene. Marlene stands shocked with fear and Honey tugs on her hands to get her moving but the crazed man holds onto her ankle. His jaw flexes widens and collapses on the bone of her ankle.Marlene lets out a pain-filled scream and struggles to rip her leg from his hold. Honey stomps on the man on the ground but he holds on still. Even while being inflicted damage, he only cares about sucking the blood from Marlene.Finally, Honey rips Marlene from him and scrambles her to the side of the grass.One thousand one.One thousand-two...My vision blurs, unfocusing and then refocusing and I see the rock with the man's blood, so I weigh it and left with my leg. I bring it up and it's as heavy as the average player then I let it down and it's as light as a feather. The rock effectively pins the man to the ground.Marlene jerks up and down, left to right, side to side and then stills.One thousand fourI hear groans and screeches from behind me and I turn around to still see a group of blood-red people stagger to words us. Swaying up and down, left to right, side to side. Limping and cat-walking, falling and standing.One thousand seven- BreatheOne thousand eightOne thousand nine...One thousand-In the snap of a finger, Marlene has turned on Honey and now he wrestles for his life. She scratches at his features and he's desperately calling for her to come back to her senses The crazed man just a few meters away from them, rocks the huge boulder I have placed on his backI look back to see the group nearing, I look forward to seeing the crazed man regaining some consciousness.So I do what every logical person would do.I dust my trusty bag that contains my Acception Letter and I run past them all. Not looking back even once.He wasn't going to live after those scratches anyway.I runawayBuildings stand like candy bars filling the sky, they would stand tall and proud and host a series of colorful intricate designs of cords in them.The sky would be bright blue with a hint of purple on a normal day and the clouds would host the dreams of the humans underneathThe streets would be filled with techy gadgets that I couldn't for the life of me understand and people would roam the streets immersed in their small world of technology.But all I see are half-bitten candy bars and crumbs of it scattered around, the sky is gray, very very black from the fires and not for a long distance do I hear the sound of one human.I walk into the silent train station, the light above me flicks on and off, the walls are stained with black watercolors and the ground is a swirl of red that smells like copper...like metal. It makes me sick.I walk around, surveying the area and the air feels tight. Am I stupid? Why am I walking out here in the open? Was I too late?I look over my head and the barely standing platform of Dishuaa Station hangs from the cords above. I feel my eyes water and my skin waters with it. My legs go limb so does my heart.I had just ran 10 kilometers non-stop to this station in hopes of warning them but everything was silent. Almost as if, there was no one. No almost as if people were here but stayed quiet?Did the rabid men get here? Just how many cities had been raided by them.I shuffle my feet against the dirty tiles and I bring my sight down to stop at a pink frog, I pick it up and look around to spot a little girl, huddled against the wall and in similar pink frilly clothes. Her legs are up against her chest and she's resting her head on it. She doesn't look older than 6. Maybe 7?I walk up to her cautiously but curiously, I can't possibly leave her out in the open. A light breeze blows over me. And I find myself calling her in light premonition of what it feels like.I stop right in front of her and I squat down to her small form."Hey, little gi- " I call out and she raises her head. Her eyes are hollow and small tissues come out of her empty ear and blood drips down.Her face is shrunken and her big doe eyes, I'm guessing are missing. Like they've been plucked out.The hair that rested between her arm and knee falls to show compressed skin that folds and flaps, overlapping each other like over-washed skin in soapy water.I stutter to say something, completely horrified as I peer into the empty eyes.The girl mutters something like"Mama" But more buzzed and muted. She sniffes me a little more and something I don't believe should happen does anyway.She explodes.I should have walked away.I wipe away all residue and change into better clothes. I hear helicopters pass by overhead. One thing I noticed I had as an advantage over the average mass is I have really good hearing. Perhaps it was those years of spending time in the mountains that made me this way or maybe it was having to constantly listen to my mom's disappointed words that she whispered to her friends over the phone.I ready my pack and begin my 5-kilometer journey to my home. I don't know where I should walk and I fear any tunnels I might encounter. My mouth feels bitter thinking so badly of my mother and something unknown beats heavily in my heart. Perhaps I already what it is but I choose to not acknowledge it.Just 3 kilometres into my light jog the earth rumbles from something like an explosion, it causes me to fall to my bottom and a heavy ring echoes in my ears. The next thing I hear are overhead helicopters, loud explosions and a deep rumbling.I run.When I get to the train station, I have to climb to the top and dodge corners. My mind is on only one thing; Home.I slow my step down when I'm out in the open. Dishuaa was 10 times better than what I'm seeing here.Buildings are on fire, people are running around crazed, killing anything in site, families are torn apart and everyone is trying to find a safe haven.I see a man stab another man. The man enters the bleeding man's car and tries to start it but it doesn't work, he tries again and again, desperation filling his movement and his eyes dart to a van tucked away peacefully in the alleyway between two candy shops. I see a small brown haired kid with a small pout pop its head out to look around and upon siting her dad in another man's car just across from hers, waves at her father.Her smile is bright among all the blood and chaos outside, her father's face tightens at her gesture and a look of horror over comes his feature but...Two men fly threw the windshield and all I hear is the scream of the girl fill the bus. Not even the chance to wave back, not even the chance to come out and father-murderer's body is brought out through the windshield and although he pushes his assailant's body away with all his strength.I know it's all his strength because while the attacker threatens to rip out his organs, father is still looking ahead at the bus, his hands reach towards the bus is where is daughter is but...Father-murderer is murdered.One thousandOne thousand oneOne thousand twoOne thousand seven. The two crazed walk out of the vanOne thousand eightOne thousand nine. They are in the streetsOne thousand ten...Father-murderer rises up and walks past his attacker to the van and past his daughter murderers.I runaway.My heart feels limp and my mouth runs bitter dry. The streets to my house are flooded with blood, chunks of the earth pulled out and nail scrapings along the side of walls. I can hear their screaming. I can witness the massacre that just went through her.4 blocks to my house and I know what that unknown feeling is.It is so immoral so disgusting to admit so unethical, so...inhumane but still so satisfying.I know what this feeling is...And I dare say it, just this once world. Just this once I want to say the things not considered courteous or acceptable by society, I don't want to be judged or criticized for the words about to leave me. I just want to say this guilt-free.If everyone was dead, there would be no need to go back HOME.The only reason I had run 20.3 kilometres in minutes was that I wanted to feel like the dutiful son. The son who despite his mother's scrutinizing gaze still came to save his family. A son that felt responsible to go back home even when the world came to shit.Yes, I did it all to feel good. So that I knew I had at least tried to save them, but standing just 4 blocks away from meeting my family, got me thinking...What if they were alive?I didn't...want that. Was that too immoral of me?Getting that off my chest felt crazily good and bad at the same time. So I turn around and I know I'm just a sissy.I take on step forward andRunaway