"Why are you doing this?" I heard my father shouting from outside our house. I had just woken up after taking a nap after helping my father plant the seeds we would grow this season. I sneaked a peek and listened to their conversation while hiding my presence. I saw a man in a black robe, revealing only his mouth and a few strands of his white hair, but he ignored my father.

"What did my family do to you?! We're just a family of farmers! I don't get it—what did we do to deserve this?!" my father shouted desperately. The man just glared at my father's last words before unsheathing his blade and stabbing him in the neck, pinning him down like livestock ready to be sold.

My body trembled as my knees gave way, losing the strength to stand. "This isn't true, this isn't true. This is just a dream. I need to help Father!" I mumbled. I got up, but when I did, the man in the black robe vanished without a sound. My father lay there, his eyes open, staring in my direction, surrounded by his own blood.

I immediately called for my mom, but there was no response. That's when I realized our whole town was on fire, and all the townspeople were gone. I ran to our house. "Mom, Mom!! Dad needs help—he's bleeding!" I desperately called out, but there was no response. Then I heard a cry. I followed the noise and found my 1-year-old sister lying on our parents' bed while my mother was on the floor, bleeding.

My emotions shut down like something snapped inside me. I had so many questions. I didn't know what to do. I bit my nails, scratched my head, dug my nails into my face—and suddenly, I passed out.