We were crossing the road on the way to the supermarket when it happened. That’s it. No “uneventful” days with the constant foreboding feeling something was going to happen, no warning signs that were quickly dismissed, nothing.

I asked my dad if we had any bread back at home.

No response. I asked mum.

No response. Callum.

Nothing, but if something was going on, he’d probably be in on it. What had I done in the last minute that would make them stop talking to me? They were talking to me normally a minute ago and I doubt they’d pull anything this cruel on me. Well, probably not. Continue reading