Before The Darkest Hour

Three

Maggie

"Maggie."

"Maggie, wake up."

A warm hand rests on my shoulder, shaking me awake as I groan against my pillow.

"Maggie! Get the fuck up!"

I squint my eyes and roll on my back so I can properly glare at Harper. The sky is darkening outside my open window, and only the faint glow cast from the street light illuminates my room.

Harper is well awake though, and the frightened expression she wears forces my mind into awareness. All of the events from today rush forward, and I sit up in bed.

"What's wrong?" I ask, my throat as dry as sandpaper.

Harper glances over her shoulder, as if she expects something to jump out from the shadows in the corner of my room.

"Something bad is happening outside," she whispers, tugging my arm. "Come on, let's go downstairs. Everyone is scared. We need to stick together."

I toss the blankets off of my sweating body and slide out of bed, my feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. I shiver, from both the cold and my elevated stress levels.

When I was trying out for basketball for the first time, this same thing happened. My whole body quaked during the warm up, and then when it was time for me to shoot the first hoop, I almost vomited on myself. My nerves have always been a problem, and our current situation definitely didn't make things easy.

If the world ever goes back to normal, I'm making that therapy appointment I've been putting off, I think.

Harper tugs on my arm again, and this time, I let her guide me out of my room and down the stairs. Her angled black hair bobs with each step, and the butterfly tattoo on the back of her neck gives me something to focus on so that I don't hyperventilate.

Just breathe.

The other girls are waiting downstairs, gathered around the television.

Jezebel is pacing behind the couch. Lyra and Evelyn are both sitting, their eyes glued to the news, unblinking, and Alora looks like she hasn't moved from her spot in front of the living room window.

All of their heads swivel to us when we exit the stairs, and Harper loosens her grip on my arm.

"What's going on?" I ask, moving around Harper as I make my way to the couch.

My eyes fall on the television, where the same vague message floats across the screen. Back in a moment, my ass. I glance down at my watch, and the time reads eight twenty-five PM. Have I really been asleep for over seven hours?

"We've been hearing screams and gunshots outside," Evelyn says.

My stomach drops, and the shivers begin again. I grab the throw off the back of the couch and wrap it around my shoulders, hugging myself tight.

"Has the news come back on yet? Or your podcast?" I ask, my eyes wide.

"No go on the television, but we were getting updates from the BreakingNewsToday podcast up until an hour ago. And Maggie... the things she was reporting were bad." Evelyn hugs her phone to her chest, her eyes pooling with unshed tears.

"How bad are we talking?"

"Bad, bad. She said that D.C. was overrun, the White House was burnt to the ground, and the military fought in the streets until they all got killed. Bullets don't pierce their flesh, and they're fast. Super strong. Basically, she said we didn't stand a chance, and then she went off the air."