Something that got to me in the middle of math class, unfortunately its two days late.
I clutched at my chest as the burning persisted, something felt wrong today though if someone had asked me what, I couldn't tell them. Today was the world meeting and I was getting ready for it as usual, Iggy and Mattie were coming over before we left, it was in my capital this time so I wouldn't have to travel far.
A sound echoed in my mind, the sound was like a thousand metal beams breaking and I collapsed, the impact from an attack I didn't see brought me to my knees. All I knew was that my people where dying, burning. My chest, it constricted with pain, the sound of a scream echoed through the bedroom, a minute it continued, before I realized it was mine. A second impact shook my body, more of my people burning, my fingers clawing through my chest trying to stop it. Stop the pain.
I tried to get to the door, feeling them screaming, burning, dying. My people, I have to save them. A third. Another scream echoed through my house, again it startled me before I realized it was mine.
I needed to help them, to save them, like the hero I am. They need me. I have to help them.
Arms around me, holding me down, keeping me back from my people, the ones I have to save. Words being shouted at me. They don't matter, they don't matter. Not at all.
My people are dying, they need my help! Why cant I help them? I have to. To save them.
The agony is so great in my chest as I feel each one die, the pain increasing as the body count rose. Struggling against the arms that held me. Not knowing why. Not caring why. They, the people, are the only ones on my mind.
And it hurts. Every year, it hurts. But the anniversary is never as painful as the day it happened. Every year, I take that day to mourn my people, whose lives where cut short unjustly. I look at the scar across my torso, where I tried to claw through it, from my left shoulder to the end of my ribcage on the right side. I look at the blood stain near my front door and the scratches on the wall, where I laid begging, screaming, and crying to be let go, so I could get to them, so I could help them. So I could save them. I look at all this and I just let the tide of memories wash over me, until I cant take it anymore. Every year it gets a little easier to bear and I long for the year on that day, that the pain is gone. But we all know that, like a birthday, the pain will be back next year.