It happened so fast, like magic! One second, everything was normal. The next second, all the grown-ups just disappeared! I was at the library when it happened. I heard a loud thump, and suddenly it was really quiet.
When I went outside, it looked like someone had pressed pause on the whole world. Cars were stopped in the middle of the road, with their doors open and radios still playing. The only sounds were the wind blowing newspapers and the swings in the park moving by themselves.
There were kids everywhere, all looking confused and trying to figure out what was going on. Babies were crying because their moms and dads were gone. Younger kids were wandering around, looking lost. Some of my friends were trying not to freak out.
Some kids just stood there, staring at the empty space where their parents had been seconds ago. Others were crying, their faces twisted with fear and confusion, reaching out for someone who wasn't there anymore. A group of little kids huddled near the sandbox, crying together as the swings creaked back and forth in the breeze.
I couldn't understand what was happening. Where did everyone go? Why were only the adults gone? It felt like something was really, really wrong.
Everywhere I looked, there were reminders of what had just happened. An ice cream truck was still playing its happy music, but there was no one there to buy ice cream. A scooter lay on its side, its wheels still spinning around and around. And everywhere, there were the sounds of kids crying, whimpering, and trying not to cry.
Little kids were screaming for their moms and dads, their voices echoing down the street. They were all between 6 and 8 years old, and they looked so scared and confused.
One girl, no older than 7, was holding a crumpled photo in her shaking hands, looking at every face she passed, like she was hoping her parents would magically appear. She kept whispering, "Mommy, where are you?" over and over again, and it made my heart feel heavy.
I saw a boy, his face covered in tears and dirt, trying to calm his little sister down. She was crying so hard by the side of the road. He was holding her tight, trying to be brave for both of them, but his chin was shaking because he was scared too.
Then a tiny boy, no more than 6 years old, tugged on my sleeve. He looked up at me with huge, scared eyes and asked, "Can you help me find my brother?" His voice was so quiet, I could barely hear it over all the other sounds. I nodded and took his warm, little hand in mine. It felt so small.
We walked together, his hand holding mine really tight, as we made our way through all the other kids. Some were in groups, trying to understand what was happening. Others were just wandering around, looking lost and confused.
As we passed some parked cars, I saw a teenager around my age giving out candy bars she had found in one of the cars. She was trying to cheer up the little kids and make them smile, even though everything was such a mess.
The park, which is usually full of laughter and games, was like a shelter for kids now. They were huddled together on the grass, looking anxious and afraid. The slides and swings looked so lonely without any kids playing on them.
Suddenly, we heard a loud cry. A little toddler had tripped and fallen near the fountain. He wasn't really hurt, but he was crying like he was so scared. I ran over and helped him up, brushing off his pants. "It's going to be okay," I told him, trying to sound brave even though I was feeling scared too.
As it started to get dark, the streetlights turned on, making long shadows on the ground. The day was ending, but it felt like time had stopped for all of us kids who were left behind. We didn't have any answers or explanations, and night was coming, which felt really scary.
I realized that a lot had changed in just a few hours. But in that change, we all needed to stick together and take care of each other. As I stood there, holding the little boy's hand and looking at all the other kids' faces, I knew we had to find a way to not just survive, but to make a new kind of family.
The city felt like a maze of sounds and shadows, with kids' cries echoing from every corner. As I walked through the streets, it felt like the whole world had been turned upside down, and only us kids were left to wander around in it.
I held the little boy's warm hand tight, trying to make sense of what had happened. He looked just as scared as I felt, jumping every time he heard another kid cry out.
"What's your name?" I asked him, trying to sound calm.
He sniffled and wiped his face with his other hand. "Alexander," he said in a tiny voice that seemed so small in our strange new world.
"Okay, Alexander, I'm Ivy," I said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "You're going to be okay. Will you come with me to the orphanage? It's safe there, and we can figure out what to do next, together."
Alexander nodded, holding my hand even tighter as we kept walking down the street. The air smelled weird, like gasoline from the stopped cars and food that had been left out.
When we got to the orphanage, it looked like a safe, familiar place, even though kids were scattered all over the lawn, some crying and some just sitting quietly, looking stunned.
Cass and Leo were there, trying to help everyone. Cass was talking to a group of kids, looking determined. Leo was handing out water bottles he had found somewhere. They looked up when Alexander and I walked over.
"Cass, Leo," I called out, feeling relieved to see them.
Cass looked us over quickly, her eyebrows coming together a little. "Ivy, who's this?"
"This is Alexander," I told her. "He was all alone. I said he could come with us."
"Of course," Cass said, crouching down to look at Alexander with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're safe with us, Alexander."
Leo stepped closer, not smiling like he usually does. "It's everyone older, Ivy. They're all gone. Only us kids left," he said, almost whispering.
Cass stood up straight, trying to look confident even though I could tell she was scared too. "It seems like only people 13 and older have disappeared," she said, looking around at all the kids' faces and ages.
Even though Cass was acting calm, I knew she was just as scared as the rest of us. But she's always been good at taking charge when everything feels like it's falling apart.
"Let's get everyone inside," Cass said in a loud voice so everyone could hear. "We'll set up in the common room. It's going to be okay," she promised, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.
As we led all the kids into the orphanage, the building that used to feel so confining now felt like a safe place. Tonight, the orphanage wasn't just a building; it was a shelter, a fortress to keep us safe from the unknown. It was holding all of us – the scared ones, the brave ones, and the lost ones.
Whatever had happened today, whatever had taken our parents and all the other adults away, had changed everything. But here, with Cass, Leo, and little Alexander by my side, I felt a tiny bit of hope. Together, maybe we could find some answers. Together, maybe we could face whatever came next.
As the sun went down, Cass and I helped the last few kids get through the gates of Hope's End Orphanage. The place was buzzing with scared whispers and the occasional cry. We moved around, comforting the kids and helping them get settled, trying to make the big, old building feel a little less scary.
I helped a little boy whose sweater had gotten caught on the gate. Looking around, I saw bits of myself in all their frightened faces. I remembered how lost and small I felt when I first came to the orphanage, not knowing what would happen next. It made my heart hurt to think about what all these kids were going through.
"You're doing great, Ivy," Cass said as she walked by, holding a tiny girl's hand.
I managed a small smile and kept focusing on the kids. As we finally got everyone inside and it got dark outside, Cass leaned close and whispered, "They just vanished, Ivy. One second everyone was there, and then...poof! Just gone. Their clothes were left behind, but no people."
Hearing that sent shivers down my spine. "And now it's just us kids," I whispered back.
More and more kids kept showing up at the orphanage. Some were all alone, while others held onto their brothers, sisters or friends. It felt like the kids just kept coming, each one looking as scared and confused as the last.
As night fell, the loud cries slowly turned into quiet sobs. We had set up a big sleeping area in the common room with blankets and pillows everywhere. The kids huddled close together, finding comfort in being near each other.
I watched Cass move around the room, reassuring everyone and helping out wherever she could. Even though I knew she was just as scared as the rest of us, she had a way of making it seem like she knew exactly what to do.
Finally, the room got quiet, and in that silence, I felt a strong determination growing inside me.
These kids, this place - it wasn't just about surviving anymore. It was about building something new and good out of all this craziness. We had all been thrown together by what happened, but maybe that meant we could make a new kind of family.
But as I sat there thinking, I realized that not every kid might have made it to the orphanage yet. There could still be kids out there, lost and scared. I couldn't just sit and wait.
"I'm going to look for anyone else who might need help," I told Cass, standing up. She looked worried, but nodded.
"Be careful, Ivy," she said.
I nodded back, feeling the weight of responsibility as I walked down the hallway of the orphanage.
As I pushed open the big, heavy door of the Hope's End Orphanage, the cool night air blew gently across my face. It carried the distant sounds of all the chaos from earlier in the day. My hand rested on the doorknob for a moment, the metal feeling cold and solid. I hesitated for just a breath, not sure if I wanted to go out there alone.
"Ivy, wait!" a shout made me turn around. Leo was jogging over to me, his face looking determined and stubborn, the way it gets when he's made up his mind about something.
"It might be dangerous out there," I said as he reached me, keeping my voice low. "You should stay here and help out."
But Leo shook his head, his messy light brown hair catching the dim light coming from the orphanage windows. "I'm not afraid of the dark, Ivy. And you shouldn't go alone." His voice was firm and almost defiant.
I paused, looking into his bright blue eyes that always seemed to notice everything, even the fear I was trying to hide. We had grown up together in this orphanage, just the two of us against the world. And now against this crazy new reality we couldn't understand. Seeing his bravery, fierce as always, made me smile a little despite everything going on.
"Remember when you climbed up the big oak tree in the backyard because you were sure you could touch the moon?" I asked, feeling nostalgic.
Leo grinned, and some of the tension between us faded away. "And then you had to climb up and get me down because I got stuck. You're always looking out for me."
"Yeah, well, someone has to," I replied, our familiar joking around making the night feel a little less scary. But having him there, so brave and fearless as always, reminded me why I needed him by my side - not just now, but always.
"Okay, you can come," I gave in, whispering. "But we stick together. No running off on your own."
"Deal," he said quickly, some of his usual energetic spark coming back.
We stepped outside together, the orphanage door closing softly behind us. The world outside the gates was so still and quiet, completely different from the panic and noise from earlier. The streetlights stretched our shadows out long across the cracked pavement. The faint night sounds seemed muffled, like even the city itself was holding its breath.
Leo and I stopped at the edge of the dimly lit street, our shadows blending into one dark shape. For a moment, we just stood there, two kids on the edge of this huge unknown, all our shared memories and uncertain future weighing on us together.
"Should we turn back?" Leo murmured, his voice barely audible over the whispering wind.
I looked down the street, watching the shadows and light move in a slow, eerie dance. "No," I said, more to myself than him. "We keep going forward."
And with that, we stepped forward, our footsteps hesitant but hopeful, walking through the quiet streets in search of anyone else who might need our help. Our hearts pounded out a silent, brave rhythm into the starless night.
The Great Reset - Chapter 01
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