THE PAST PLAQUE

roat hurt, and my eyes started to water and my lungs burned.It was like I had truly been taking in the smoke from the fire.My fantasies were un

pants.Before refilling it once more, I turned my head back and drank the entire container.I demanded that I return to the warmth of my blankets to fight off the freezing November weather as my bare arms

ight beginning to appear on the edges of the trees, though it was still dark.In about 60 minutes, the sun would be rising and my watch shift would begin

r.Although the cold this time of year could seep into your bones if you weren't careful, you would think that walking around the perimeter of the compound as the

o many unanswered questions, despite the frequency with which I had dreamed about it.I could never quite figure things out, no matter how many times I went through it and tried to concentrate on the specifics.I felt like I was looking through a stained glass window as it all played out.I was

e you had endured that pain for a sufficient amount of time.After waking from the dream, I had learned that it was pointless to scream and cry for my parents.It was pointless;Even if you wanted to, you couldn't bring dead people back to life.I had, on the othe

e furthest thing from the truth that I loved to uphold so much if I allowed myself to.I had come to realize over time that doing so only made the pain wors

ping until the air and time around us stopped.He was lying next to me unharmed when I opened my eyes after my face hit the dirt.My mother and I climbed back onto my father's back and conti

"everyone" would meet, as my father had mentioned.This was our group.My father returned to his human form once we were sure we were safe, and we all col