0830hrs Washington DC - June 16th 2012

Jacen sat up.

His forehead was coated in something sticky, His arm was stinging and his legs were aching, crushed under the sink that had fallen on them.

Jacen sat up, and with a grunt pushed the sink off his legs. With a rush of warm blood his toes began to twitch, and he struggled to his feet.

The room was still intact, but the toilet and the sink had come away from the wall and ominous cracks rent the ceiling.

Yet Jacen's mind was still incredibly clear.

That missile fell ten miles away, he thought quickly. If it was a bomb then surely have destroyed this building.

Then, he realised that his parents weren't at home, and a sick feeling of loss and uncertainty rippled through him.

He tried desperately to open the door, which swung inwards. Nothing but large chunks of rubble lay behind it, and Jacen coughed as dust wafted into his eyes.

Then, he heard the clash of static. The emergency radio was still on.

"- world is still reeling from this synchronised and deadly attack. Targets included the White House, New York, Tokyo, and London, where this year's Olympic Games facilities now lie in ruin. The governments of the US and Britain have been targeted directly - the White House and the British Houses of Parliament have been entirely destroyed. Experts still cannot pinpoint the perpetrator of these attacks, as -"

Jacen's heart sank like a stone. The centre of the US government had been wiped out, and by the sounds of it, the governments in other G20 countries as well.

There was nothing left to do. Jacen picked up the radio and put it in his pocket.

Then, inwardly thanking that their flat was on the top floor of the apartnemt block, he dragged the sink beneath the room's skylight and jumped up to it, carefully manoeuvring himself past the shattered glass in the window, and onto the apartment roof.

The whole tower was skewed over, the roof sloping down in front of him. A tortured scarlet horizon gathered in the distance. And the city was completely silent.

Buildings that once stood tall and mighty had been reduced to sheer, grim headstones in this giant metropolitan cemetery. Roads were smothered with ash and rubble, cars crumpled as if they were toys. A heavy mist clung to the ground, blurring the scars of destruction in the distance. No sounds of struggling people could be heard. They had all perished, except him.

And before he could fathom his survival, he heard the chunter of a lonely helicopter, searching fruitlessly for survivors. He jumped with all the energy he could muster, waving his arms, and this sapped the last of his strength. He thought he saw the chopper's searchlight swing in his direction before his exertions caused him to faint again, to return to blissful oblivion.

The End

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