The war of art (2)

Ch. 1 the beginning

  I sat silently at my desk waiting for anything to happen. the sharp sound of a shotgun hit my ears, students began panicking and running out into the hallways. bang bang more gunshots. I ran through the narrow hallways hoping to get out, my mind was racing and my heart was beating out of my chest. "whats going on!" i screamed. Tears streamed down my face as i ran down hallways, barely able to get by. I heard more gunshots followed by screams. when i got to the bottom floor i could see through the glass doors, Chaos! soldiers in uniforms raced through the doors trampling me. A dozen feet pushed on my body mangling it as i tried to get free. My vision blackened.  I woke up startled and uncalmed. "It was just the same Nightmare" i murmered to myself. Even though the war started when i was twelve and now that im sixteen the memories haunt me everyday and night in my thoughts and dreams. I still dont know what caused the war and why art was such a problem that they had to resort to war but it all just didnt make since.  I was at my school which was an art school in san francisco when it all started.  the last thing I remember from that day is everyone trampling me, I dont know how i survived and how i ended up here but someday i will find out. plants have grown over most of the ruins.  I think I still live in San francisco but im not sure. all of the remaining artists of all sorts have separated into different areas. I live with a group of about 130 visual artists, we dont welcome others from other art areas because we dont know who could be a threat.