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 Four Years Prior The paper blew through the air, the twisting and turning of the sheet attracting the attention of a few. This attention was not withheld, though, as many turned back to their daily lives, bustling along and not stopping to do anything. This particular piece of paper, however, was destined for one person and one person only. It would neither hit the face of the person next to me nor would it miss its mark entirely. It would hit me. I was one of the few in the mass of bodies who looked at the paper, fluttering in the breeze, but not one who looked back down. It seemed like it was searching; searching for someone in the b

 The time is now. The place is here. The situation is grim. "Dammit," I breathed, ducking behind a large chunk of debris. Cover was hard to find. I clutched my shoulder, tearing off the sleeve and peeling off the cloth to see just how bad the wound was. The hole was shallow, the blood was scarce, but the pain was excruciating. Wrapping the former-sleeve-turned-cloth around the wound, I turned and faced to the side. Dead bodies littered my point of view, the guns crackling as they tore the air apart. A swift turn of head was then carried out, wrapping around the piece of god-knows-what ever so slightly to survey the current situation. A