Heads Above the Clouds

My body stiffened, immobile, as if every muscle had turned to stone. I wanted to move-scream, run, fight-but I couldn't. A blinding light exploded beneath me, a fierce radiance that seared my vision. I felt Neal's hand on my shoulder, shoving me away with an urgency I couldn't understand. It was too late.

Time seemed to stretch like elastic, slowing as the crack under him widened, jagged and menacing. I met Neal's eyes-those deep, evergreen eyes that I had always trusted-and I could see it in them: the resignation, the finality. The ground beneath him gave way, and he was swallowed by the abyss, his gaze still locked on mine as he fell, falling farther and farther into the widening chasm.

My body hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud. Pain exploded across my chest, my limbs screaming in agony, yet I couldn't muster the strength to move. I lay there, unmoving, the weight of the world pressing down on me.

Tears blurred my vision, and I screamed Neal's name, over and over, my throat raw, my voice a rasp of desperation. But no one answered. My body trembled, cold and numb, and all I could hear was the deafening silence that followed.

Hands-rough, firm-gripped my arms, pulling me away from the crack, dragging me to safety. I didn't care who they were, where they were taking me. I let them carry me, my body too weary to resist. They placed me inside an ambulance, alongside other injured souls. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and blood, the cries of the wounded filling the small space. I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open, too numb to feel anything but the aching void inside me.

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the blackness.

When my eyes fluttered open again, a harsh, sterile light blinded me. I raised my hand to shield my eyes, blinking against the brightness. The sterile scent of disinfectant stung my nose, and I turned my head, trying to make sense of my surroundings. It looked like a community center, bustling with the noise of too many people talking at once, the air filled with tension and fear.

I sat up slowly, my body protesting every movement, and rubbed my eyes. That's when I heard her-Mom's voice. I turned toward her, desperate for reassurance. She was talking with a couple of doctors, her face etched with worry. Her gaze darted around the room, and the moment she saw me, her expression cracked. Her eyes filled with tears, and she rushed to me, wrapping me in her arms.

"I'm glad you're okay," she whispered, her voice trembling as she hugged me tightly.

Behind her, I noticed Aunt Gaizell, her face pale, her posture rigid with anxiety. My chest tightened, and the words I had been holding back flooded my mind.

"Have you seen Neal?" I asked, my voice hoarse and broken.

Aunt Gaizell's face fell, and her hand shook as she placed it on my mom's shoulder. "What happened to him?" Her voice wavered with fear.

I looked at her, the memory of Neal's face-the way he looked at me, his evergreen eyes full of love and regret-tore through me like a blade. Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Gaizell... It's my fault," I choked out between sobs.

Aunt Gaizell leaned in, her brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, sweetheart?"

"He pushed me," I gasped, trembling. "He pushed me away so I wouldn't fall. It should have been me, not him! I- I should have done something!" My voice cracked as the weight of the guilt crushed me.

Aunt Gaizell's grip tightened around my hands, her voice soft but firm. "Shh... Don't say that. He made his choice. Don't blame yourself for something you couldn't control."

"But-" I began, but she pulled me into a gentle embrace, her voice a steady whisper in my ear.

"Don't blame yourself," she repeated, the words a soothing balm against the fire of guilt burning in my chest.

I clung to her, the tears still flowing, but the warmth of her arms around me brought a small measure of comfort. My mom came closer, her face softening with a gentle smile, and she joined the hug, pulling us both close.

An hour passed in a haze of medical checks and hushed conversations. I barely noticed when the TV flickered on with a loud crackle, the volume blasting through the room. The words that followed were a blur, but the announcement struck like a punch to the gut.

"ATTENTION TO ALL WHO ARE WATCHING, PLEASE GATHER INSIDE THE EVACUATION CENTER. HUMANOIDS HAVE BEEN SPOTTED COMING OUT OF THE CRACKS ALL AROUND THE WORLD. THE GOVERNMENT IS WORKING ON A SOLUTION, BUT UNTIL THEN, PLEASE STAY INSIDE THE EVACUATION CENTER. I REPEAT, PLEASE GATHER INSIDE THE EVACUATION CENTER."

The room erupted in murmurs, panic bubbling up from the crowd. My mom and Aunt Gaizell exchanged fearful glances, their anxiety palpable. The noise outside grew louder-explosions, distant but growing in intensity, each one shaking the walls of the community center.

A doctor's voice cut through the tension. "We need to move to the evacuation center. It's safer there."

We began to gather our things, but then-an explosion rocked the building. The lights flickered, and an eerie silence fell over the room. Panic surged as something large and violent smashed into the wall, creating a hole large enough for something to pass through.

A humanoid figure appeared, its grotesque form towering over us. It was a monstrous creature, roughly nine feet tall, its body covered in twisted, spider-like limbs that clicked and twitched unnervingly. Its face was alien, its massive pincers snapping, and its eyes-black, soulless-locked onto us with chilling intent.

The creature screeched, a high-pitched sound so deafening that it felt like my eardrums might shatter.

The crowd erupted into chaos-screaming, shoving, desperate to escape. The humanoid began attacking, its pincers tearing into people, ripping off heads with brutal efficiency. Blood and screams filled the air as the creature slaughtered without hesitation.

We ran, pushing our way through the crowd, desperate to reach the fire exit. People shoved each other, trampling anyone in their path. The world outside was no better. The streets were a war zone, the city a nightmare. Humanoids crawled on the buildings, tearing into people, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. We were able to get inside a car in time.

The car sped through the chaos, people banging on the windows, their faces contorted in terror, bloodied hands reaching out, screaming for help. My mother kept her eyes on the road, her knuckles white on the wheel, refusing to stop for anyone. We had no choice.

We arrived at the evacuation center, the gates heavy with armed men standing guard. They ushered us inside quickly, checking for signs of infection. After a quick examination, we were given fresh clothes to change into.

But even as we tried to settle, the fear didn't abate. A loud bang from the entrance shattered the momentary calm. The air was thick with dread, the sounds of gunfire echoing in the distance. The people around us were growing more agitated by the second. This was only the beginning.