I was thrown into a room full of half-dead kids, still in shock of what I saw in the death of my grandmother. Something struck my shoulder and smashed me into the ground and all I could hear was the screaming and close fireworks surrounding the rooms. Something fell on me, I could not move, a hand covered my mouth and a small voice told me not to scream or make a move. For some reason, I listened to the voice, but I could still see the blood flowing across the floor, and rises through the rage of the deceased. After the longest time, the screams died and footsteps came rushing into the room. One by one the bodies were thrown into a pile and the small voice told me not to move till he knew if it was safe. Even though he told me to do this he did not let go of me when someone picked him up. “Hey these two are not dead,” a man’s voice came out. “Are you sure that girl looks as though she is.” Another voice came from the doorway. “Positive, this girl doesn’t even have a scratch on her,” the man called out to the other and pointed the gun at me. I heard the voice telling me it’s OK to move and talk if they tell me that’s what I did. They threw us to two other men. I looked around and saw dogs barking and growling with rage. “OK, you can set them loose in there.” The man that had me told the others. With one snap the dogs where loose and more screaming came within the walls. I could feel myself screaming but I could not hear myself. It was hours before the screaming was done, then the men went back in and shot the dogs. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks, but I could not feel my body anymore, nor would I be able to speak for the longest time.