My mom's voice was a sharp command, "We need to go, now."
I didn't need any more explanation. I grabbed my brothers by their arms, herding them toward the exit. The mall was a blur of flashing lights, loud voices, and confused expressions, but my mind couldn't focus on any of it except the urgency in my mother's voice.
The tingling sensation crawled up my spine again, sharper this time. It wasn't just fear anymore—it was something else. Something... new. The kind of feeling that made you want to look over your shoulder, just to be sure no one was watching. But no one was—everyone was too busy running, too busy trying to make sense of their new reality.
My little brother James clutched my hand tightly as we rushed past people, their panic contagious, but I couldn't stop to comfort them. Not when we were in the middle of the storm.
I barely noticed how quickly we made it outside, but as soon as we were out the doors, I realized how different the world was. The air felt thick, almost heavy, like something was pressing down on us. The streets were chaotic, people running, cars screeching by, sirens wailing in every direction.
"Mom, what's happening?" Jason's voice trembled as he tugged at my sleeve.
My mom's face was pale, her hands shaking as she held my baby sister close. "I don't know, sweetie," she murmured, her voice tight. "But we need to get to the car. Now."
I turned to look at the parking lot, scanning for the familiar black Ford Expedition. When I spotted it, I felt a small sense of relief, but it quickly evaporated when I saw the state of things around us. People were everywhere, all trying to get to their cars, pushing and shoving in the madness. It felt like the world was slowly losing its grip.
And then I saw him—my dad, standing near the front of the car, shouting over the chaos. His tall frame was unmistakable, even in the crowd. He waved at us frantically, his eyes wide, his face twisted with worry.
"We have to go, now!" he called, his voice raised above the din.
I grabbed Jason's hand and urged him forward, knowing we needed to move quickly. My mom was already halfway to the car, holding my baby sister, while my dad hurried to the driver's side.
"Chinwe, get in the car!" my mom shouted as she climbed in with the others.
I didn't hesitate. I slid into the backseat, scooting to make room for my brothers. My dad was already in the front, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his face tense.
"Dad, what's happening?" I asked, my voice filled with fear.
He looked over at me briefly, his eyes hard but serious. "We're getting out of here. Hold on tight."
The car jerked forward as he slammed his foot on the gas, weaving us through the streets as sirens wailed in every direction. The chaos outside was growing worse, but my dad kept his focus on the road, driving us fast and steady.
I couldn't stop the question that burned in my mind. "Are we safe?"
"Not yet," my dad answered, his voice low. "But we will be. Stay calm."
The world outside seemed to blur together, but my focus was only on the road ahead, on getting us somewhere safe. We couldn't stay in the madness, but even as we sped away, the strange feeling I couldn't shake kept gnawing at me. The energy in the air pressed down harder, and I knew—I knew—it wasn't over.