I knew them!

"Everything occurs for a reason. Good or not, it happens anyway."

These are called wise words, but who knows wisdom? Who dares calls himself wise? If life snatches away your beloved, would you be okay with that one-liner?

Anyway, we were bred with those words and taught to trust and believe in an entity we've never seen, not once.

I find it almost crazy that the world holds different meanings to our existence, yet everyone agrees that one being sat down, and suddenly made the world.

I mean, I would trust the guys with the scientific proofs, rather than the men robbed with attires bounded on books of beliefs that were written centuries before they even existed. 

As a child, I was told alongside many children who sat around my grandmother that life was like a book, and we are characters in it. Each stroke of the pen represented a second of life itself. 

I could recall how she'd laugh and say "Everything that is meant to be, will be."

Thus, I almost did not make an attempt that day when they raided our lives. After all, it started like every other day. We are already accustomed to the frequent fears and thrills of the actions of the bandits, or as my dad would say "the boys with the guns".

Just a few weeks ago, our neighbor and his family were collected from their home in broad daylight but as usual, nobody could do anything. 

Sunday comes as we mass ourselves to pray for their return, even though we knew deep down that this was impossible.

Yet, even though we claimed to be strong and faithful believers, we knew that one day it would be us next.

And, that's exactly what happened.

As the loud shouts of the gunshots drummed the premises of our school, we according to our natural instincts began to run Helter Skelter, unknowingly causing a ruckus that earned us no escape as we tripped over each other, and still ended up in their arms.

They carried us in their large trucks, both male and female, no matter how age or class. So, our school was an average private institute, but I must say that the wealthy breathe the same air as us in the school. I, for one, knew that even though my family couldn't boast of frequent trips to Dubai, we sure lived a pretty comfy life.

Thus, we hoped that we wouldn't last a day in their hands - their big, huge hands.

It was at that moment that I knew that I was so wrong. These aren't the arms that took Mariam last year, they aren't the ones that scooped away our neighbors, and they certainly aren't the boys with the guns.

No.

These were men.

They wore no mask. Carried not guns.

They were the guns.

But, the shocker of it all, I knew them.

________Author's Note: Hey, peeps. I'm Alexa here. So, I had this crazy idea to let my fingers type each day without an actual plot for a story. I have no idea what will happen, but I am sure that as I keep writing, bits and bits of the story will fall into place.

Are you ready to go on this journey with me? If yes, log in every day to read my one-day shorts, and at the end of this - if I ever find the end, we'll come up with a name for the story together.

Deal?