The Blip, the damned Blip is what took my sister, mother, father, and my best friend from me. It all happened in seconds. One moment I was talking about going to college with my parents, the next they're gone from my life. My entire world, just taken from me. From everyone. The entire world was just in a state of shock for days, for weeks. Everyone wandered around, having no idea what to do and wondering if we would be next. I didn't want to go to college anymore. What was the point? Half of everything was gone; stupid college didn't matter. And where were our wonderful Avengers? The ones who saved us all? Then failed to save what mattered most. They were gone too.

But slowly, civilization and humanity began to move on from what happened that day. We started to decide to live again, for those we lost. But after we all had moved on, after almost two thousand days, those billions who were killed came back to us, having no idea that they ever even left at all.

It was like the entire world started moving again in those moments of the Blipped returning. Coming alive from the crushing reality of death and despair that had plagued the entire world five years ago, ever since half of everything was taken from us. And in a horrifically beautiful moment after five years of trying to forget that almost everyone we loved was taken from us, in a snap, came back just as quickly.

Though as I stood in Central Park, it wasn't beautiful, and it wasn't magnificent. It was awful. Out of nowhere, people appeared in the skies and screamed as they fell thousands of feet down, slamming into the hard earth, like some sick game. Those people were so close to returning to their loved ones, only just to be dropped unceremoniously to die. Not the mention those that appeared in the middle of the street getting hit by speeding cars. Or those in the subway being run over by the trains. Those who were Blipped in the middle of emergency surgery, bleeding out. Thousands of scenarios where it would be Hell instead of Heaven to return back.

Some might be grateful that those taken from us were returned like nothing ever happened, but some, the million who died on return and their families, would argue that they were happier in the oblivion of death.