Maybe I was cursed.
Maybe I was just unlucky.
Life doesn't wait it crashes in, sudden and unrelenting.
On my 22nd birthday, everything changed.
It started like any other day warmth, laughter, family all around me.
My dad's smile, my siblings' teasing, the smell of breakfast in the air.
Everyone was there, gathered for me.
And then
The sky cracked.
Not like thunder or lightning, but a flicker… a fracture spreading across the fabric of everything I knew.
Legends I'd only heard whispered in stories came alive beings from beyond, tearing through our world like it was paper.
The earth shattered beneath our feet.
Mountains buckled, oceans boiled, skies twisted in colors that shouldn't exist.
I don't know why I survived.
Why I'm the only one left.
I'm the sole survivor of a day that ended everything and began a new nightmare.
As I stand in the ruins of what used to be home, I wonder if living on is a curse or a chance.
The world I knew is gone.
The new one is rising and I have no choice but to face it.
The ground trembled beneath my feet, but I refused to run. Not yet. Not while my family was still alive.
I grabbed a broken piece of wood a shard from our shattered dining table and held it like a weapon. It was nothing, but it was all I had.
The first creature crashed through the door. Its skin was like cracked obsidian, and its eyes burned with merciless hunger. It lunged without hesitation. I swung blindly, the wood splintering against its grotesque flesh.
Behind me, my mother screamed, her voice raw with terror. I turned just in time to see another monster snatch my younger sister her small body limp in its clawed grip.
I charged forward, desperate to save her. I struck with all the strength born from panic and love, but it was useless. The creature's claw slashed across her throat—sharp, cold, and unforgiving.
She fell to the floor, blood pooling beneath her like a scarlet stain on my heart.
My father fought beside me, a fierce roar tearing from his throat as he tackled one of the invaders. But even his strength was no match. A shadowy figure appeared tall, dark, impossibly fast. With a single, cruel strike, my father's neck snapped like a twig.
I watched helplessly as my siblings screamed, running and falling like broken dolls. My brother's face was twisted in pain as the creatures tore into him, ripping flesh and bone with savage delight.
Each death was a knife twisting deeper into my soul each scream a brutal symphony of loss.
I tried to scream, but my voice caught in my throat. I lunged at the dark figure, fury blazing in my chest, but it turned to me with eyes colder than the void.
A single gesture, and I was thrown aside like a ragdoll, crashing into the wall.
I lay there, broken, as the world burned around me and my family vanished into the darkness.
No powers. No miracles. Just raw, unbearable loss.
I prayed.
I prayed to God for miracles begged for a sign, a flicker of hope in the darkness.
But none came.
I prayed for a savior someone, anyone, to tear through the chaos and save me from the nightmare.
But none arrived.
I was left alone.
Alone in the ashes of everything I loved.
That day was supposed to be a celebration my birthday.
Instead, it became the day my world died.
I didn't know who to hate. The creatures? The monsters? The gods who turned their backs?
I didn't know who to blame. The universe? Fate? Myself?
I didn't know how to keep living.
But live I had to.
For my family everything I knew and cherished wiped away by a monster I couldn't even understand.
The sky still cracked above me, bleeding light that wasn't meant for this world.
And in that broken moment, I realized something.
Survival wasn't mercy.
It was a curse.
The silence after the storm was suffocating.
Ash drifted like ghostly snow, settling over the ruins of what was once home. Trees, twisted and blackened, clawed at the cracked sky. The air smelled of smoke and something... wrong.
I stumbled through the wreckage, every step a reminder of what was lost. Faces I loved, voices I treasured all gone.
The world I knew had fractured, just like the sky.
The streets were littered with remnants of life broken toys, scattered photographs, a shattered family portrait staring blankly from the rubble.
I touched the charred wood where our door once stood, fingers trembling.
How do you move forward when everything behind you is ash?
My heart screamed for answers, but the world only offered silence.
I scavenged what little I could water, scraps of food but hunger gnawed deeper than my empty stomach.
It was the ache of loneliness, the weight of loss, that threatened to consume me.
I thought about giving up. Letting the darkness swallow me whole.
But somewhere deep inside beneath the pain and the ruin something stubborn held on.
Not hope. Not strength. Just the faintest flicker of must.
Must survive.
For the memory of my family.
For the life that had been stolen from me.
Because even in this broken new world, giving up was not an option.
The sky above still cracked, a haunting reminder that the Convergence was only beginning.
And so was I.