CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY ONE

SHERRY

I wake up to the smell of smoke and the sound of screams.

The screams of my people.

As awareness infiltrates me, along with this numbing dazedness, I feel an overwhelming sense of suffocation. It’s almost as if there is a heavy pressure on my chest.

The sweet release of darkness has never been more inviting.

It might be the cowards way out but right now, it seems the easiest way.

But just as I am slipping into the void, I hear a familiar voice cry out, “Mama! No, don’t hurt my mama!”

It’s a plaintive cry, the voice of a child who has till now been filled with laughter and joy. Ignoring my own pain, I look around and see the raging fires, along with the little girl screaming. There are other people crying out too, shouting, crying, screaming, but it is three year old’s voice that forces me to assess my situation.

The reason for my suffocation is pretty easy to narrow down. Here is a huge slab of metal resting on my chest. The memory comes back in a sharp