Fleeing the scene in a desperate attempt to get away from the panic and desperation of the fallen children and family's behind me, I ran with a limp that made me flinch every few seconds, the pain was horrible and the feeling of my leg left after a while. I bit my lip and ran to the nearest house, hoping that the house had electricity so that I could eat, and to lie down for a while. I opened the door and a flood of warmth hit me like an open fire at an outdoor camp. I closed the door behind me, still hearing faint screams of men, women and children. I hesitated and walked further, the house had a fireplace that was unbelievably still going; I put some wood in the fireplace and sat down on the floor in front of it. I tore a bit of my shirt and tied it around my wounded leg; I slowly lowered myself into a comfortable sleeping position and closed my eyes.
As I slept I could hear the screams and slight glimpses of what happened, I woke up sweaty and desperate for a glass of water, I got up quickly forgetting about my leg and walked over towards the tap in the kitchen in front of me, It was 5.00pm and still dark, I could hear fire outside and cars getting rummaged through, "Poor Souls" I said to myself, I put some wood on the fire for a little extra warmth, seeing as though my attempts to find clothes was near impossible, most had blood covered all over them or were ripped to pieces.