Put On Your Warpaint {Hartmyre Blitz}

And sometimes the rain fell, just a slight pitter-patter as it would crash into the roof and suddenly die, plunging itself into the cold stone without a second thought as though it would simply be the best option. I used to sit on my little bed and listen to each raindrop, counting off all of the lives and imagining that for every splatter of water, a person fell to the ground, lifeless. First it was little Anne, she died during a rainstorm and no one was quite sure how. So in the end heart-failure was blamed for the mysterious man in the dark who stole her breath away. It was just simply her time to go, and when I head the thudding of Teddy’s hands as he bangs on the door, and the sounds that rattle the windows from the outside, I can only think of how my time has arrived.

His eyes are frantic, bulging and lines of red shooting through his otherwise white corneas. He too, thinks that this is the end; he has known it all along. While the others sit around lazily and go on with their work Teddy has so much more in mind, he sees the underlying factors that help to bind our lives together. While they all say he’s foolish for so extravagantly imagining up this ‘end of the world’, I can hear the mysterious sounds that echo in the distance, they don’t sound like the bells of heaven.

And I never knew the world would end like this, with bombs surely crashing down around our heads, beating our small, worthless bodies into the ground. The image horrifies me and so I push it to the back of my head, I try so hard to forget what is going outside and I look up into Teddy’s eyes with a fiery determination to do whatever is the safest.

“Where’s the bunker?”