Chapter 1

I calmly sat on my rooftop, watching as a tornado swept up my town. Any normal person would have panicked, prayed, cried, or screamed. I did not, because this had happened to me many times before, and there was no use trying to change it. I watched the whirlwind move closer, threatening to swallow anything that dared to come too close. I closed my eyes, covering my ears as the roaring sound got louder and louder,before I felt myself being lifted off the ground. Soon, I made the mistake of opening my eyes. They sky was practically black, the remains of houses and buildings swirled around, and any attempt people made to scream was drowned out by the howling of the wind blowing across my ears. I felt a bit small, like a pebble in an ocean, or a grain of sand on the beach. I hated not feeling in control, and disorganized. You'd think that would motivate me to spend more time on studying and cleaning, but you'd be wrong. I was suddenly ripped from thoughts as I felt something slam into the back of my head. Pain quickly followed, and I bit the side of my mouth, trying to distract myself from it. I saw a flash of someone in a dark blue sweatshirt and a ponytail weaving between buildings, appearing to be trying to escape their unchangeable death. That made me almost laugh, because I had done that exact thing once. But you can only escape death so long. They were the last thing I saw before the world went blurry, then pitch black.

When I woke up, the sun shone through my so-called 'blackout curtains'. I rolled over on my side, mumbling about how my head hurt, which I suppose is expected. I laid there for a few more minutes before reaching for my phone, and watching the screen light up as I tapped it.

There, in bold letters, read the words,"Friday, February 13."

I yawned, raising my eyebrows a bit in confusion. The reset usually only caused me to go back 3 or 4 days at most, but I supposed it was just luck this time. I continued staring at the ceiling, observing the popcorn bumps, the texture of the paint, they way the light reflected off the mirror and the sound of the leaves rustling and the low rumbling of cars passing by. After a while I sighed, realizing I wouldn't fall asleep anytime soon. I  crawled out of bed, reluctantly changing into a gray tank top and black sweatpants. It seemed counterproductive; wearing sweatpants and then a spaghetti-strap shirt. Was I trying to stay cold or warm?

I didn't think much of anything for a while, playing mindlessly on my phone, tapping away. It seemed almost peaceful. I was dozing off, when I heard a loud crash, and the piercing sound of glass shattering. I practically jumped out of my chair, and started racing down the stairs until a came to an abrupt stop and thought of reasonable explanations for the noises. Maybe a kid had broken the window playing baseball? No, that only happened in stories teaching us to behave. Perhaps a vase had fallen over? Yes, that happened, probably. Either way, it wasn't a smart idea to run into what could have shards waiting to cut through my bare feet. However, I didn't get much further down the stairs because I heard shouting in an familiar language, and those voices certainly did not belong to children. They spoke in Spanish, and I would have admired how they could roll their r's, if I hadn't been in a potentially-life-threatening situation.

This hadn't happened before. I should have realized that the moment the window shattered, or the sun shone a bit brighter in the morning.

And now, I definitely should have noticed, because I saw two strangers in my living room, holding guns, in black.

I dropped the book I had subconsciously carried, and everything went silent. I stared in a mixture of fear and amazement.

I admit, I was scared. But that didn't stop me from saying in a slightly shaky, (although I tried to hide it) voice, saying,

"How the hell crazy morons break through bloody glass? I mean, I know it's glass, but it should be a bit more dura-"

I was cut of by the sharp sound of a gunshot near my head, a warning of some sort.

I was completely, and utterly, screwed. Darn it.

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