It was shocking to say the least. After such a huge war with Thalia, we were known all across the world. They almost won the war but, we had more resources and spies. So many of our soldiers and our ally’s soldiers died at the battlefield, weekly pictures of the gruesome aftermath were sold for five notes each and all were the same type of pictures that made a stomach swirl. The photographers that took pictures of the latest news, would never hand it to you with a smile or a “Good day!” They’d wrap the photos in tissues, afraid that a child may see their father lying dead on the ground with a bullet in his head. Caring mothers would sympathize for the men that always wore a small black derby hats with white lilies tucked into the ribbonning atop their balding hair, a item that symbolized a family member that had fallen in battle. Some had only a small bunch, while others had flower crowns of the white lilies lining the edges of the hat. Bars were filled with drunk women and men crying their sorrows away, looking for anyone who cared, just a way to make the pain stop. The government weren’t taking it lightly either. Terrorist attacks were planted at every important monument. The statue built for our founding fathers, destroyed into only rubbles of rock. The innocent civilians that died to live their happy lives had their name read off a long sheet of paper every Monday. Our supplies were slowly deplenishing, no one could bare to rip the spare ones used in battle from the clinging hands of the dead. But on the sixteenth night of December, the harsh fog and snow hid the soldiers from the eye’s of the enemy and they launched a surprised attack. The battle only lasted forty minutes before the main general and his men fled. All their guns, bullets, and food rations were took from the tents and only two men were lost. The very next day, Thalia had finally surrendered. As soon as that panting mailman yelling for the citizens to wake up for great news has arrived, the streets were ecstatic. The gloomy night sky was lit up by the fireworks the mailman frantically spent for all his money’s worth and families dragged him into houses, giving him the finest of their wine and food. But by the time the sun risen from the ground, no one celebrated. The president gave out a long and heavy speech that wrenched at our hearts. When he ended, the sea of the people clapped and cried so loud, Thalia could hear us. Three days after the war were took to hold memorials for fallen soldiers, and the people who helped raised communities that crumbled.

After that, the streets were never happier. The photographer ran up to civilians, with photographs of the white Thalian flag, raising in surrender. The bar gave free rounds of drinks. The children played sword, reenacting the scene of where Thalia surrendered. No one left to work that day. They only partied through day and night until it finally only buzzed down to pure happiness.

Now just, imagine the surprise when the children at school are told to immediately evacuate, for a bomb was just planted in the nearby bank. Imagine the sound of hearing the explosion, bringing columns and people down with it play in your ear. Imagine, soldiers in a dark foreign military van storm out with guns and shields, aiming at the surrounding citizens. Yes, shocking was a way to describe it. But perhaps, “shocking” was a little underrated in the opinion of the people.