We're at the mall, just a regular trip for some shopping. People bustle by, laughing, kids tugging at their parents' sleeves, and the sounds of escalators and chatter fill the air. My family's here—my mom's trying on shoes, and my little brothers are racing through the food court. I'm barely paying attention, mindlessly scrolling through my phone when it happens.
Boom.
The whole mall shakes, the air thick with tension. It's not just a tremor—it feels like something's tearing through the ground. I look up in time to see people stop, frozen in place, eyes darting around. A low rumble echoes through the walls, followed by another explosion. This one's louder, sharper, the force of it almost knocking me off my feet.
I feel it before I hear it—a sharp tingling sensation racing up my spine, like a thousand volts of electricity are running through me. My heart skips a beat as the world seems to tilt, the noise in the air rising like a storm. People scream, running in every direction, crashing into each other. My legs feel heavy, unsteady. The buzzing in my body intensifies, and I lose track of everything. My mind is a whirlwind of confusion.
I try to focus, but everything around me starts to blur, and before I know it, I collapse into darkness .
I don't know how long I've been out, but when I open my eyes, the world is far from calm. The mall is chaos—loud, panicked, and chaotic. People are shouting, crying, and stumbling. Police officers are everywhere, trying to maintain control, their authoritative voices cutting through the noise. They're pushing people back, herding them into corners, but it's not enough. Firefighters are rushing through, extinguishing small fires sparked by the explosion, and ambulances zoom through the entrances, picking up the wounded.
The lights overhead flicker, the air filled with the hum of emergency alarms, sirens, and the crash of a thousand voices. Everything feels overwhelming, but the TV in the corner catches my attention. A reporter's face flashes on the screen, eyes wide with shock.
"—second explosion confirmed, this one—this one has people across the globe in a state of panic. Authorities are calling it an unprecedented event—an attack of some kind, or perhaps… something even more unimaginable."
On the screen, the split view shows fire fighters carrying people on stretchers, police officers trying to corral the masses, and ambulances zooming by. Their lights flash red, adding to the disorienting blur of the scene. The chaos continues. There's no real order, just people running in every direction, unsure of what to do.
Some people shout that it's the end of the world, others argue it's an alien invasion , their voices growing more desperate by the second.
"Is this it?" a woman beside me whispers, clutching her child. "Are we being invaded?"
Another man, his face pale, shakes his head. "I knew it. The signs were all there."
People are panicking, grasping at whatever they can to explain the impossible. But for me, the feeling hasn't gone away. That same tingling sensation in my body—it's still there. Like electricity runs through me, surging under my skin.
"Chinwe! Where are you?" My mom's voice cuts through the chaos, and I quickly spot her, my brothers by her side, all looking just as lost and scared as I feel.
"We need to go," she says, her voice shaky. "Now."
But I can't shake the feeling that something's about to happen. Something bigger than any of us can understand.