[Horror Fiction and Mystery] I Have Died?

The sun is right above the head when things get tense. Many hands are busy with their new jobs, ranging from throwing bottles, throwing wood, burning anything they see, looting shops, pointing knives and even shrinking them to innocent bodies. Among them there may be an empty stomach that has not eaten since two days ago. Hot, the weather gets hotter when the fire quickly spreads everywhere. No one knows exactly how the beginning of events of all this. Everything is so fast.

I had run for three hundred yards when I found an empty house that I thought was safe to serve as a temporary hiding place, never knowing how long. I hoped it would end soon, or at least I could breathe a little before I went back to a safer place. Oh, I miss coming home! Moments like this are just the houses I miss.

I was crawling around my body as the sound of screams of people with huge stature came to break the silence. Big bodies with sharp objects in each of their hands. Celurit, knife, machete. I can die anytime. Ah, shit, I'm stuck!

I speed up my pace. Run! That's all I can do right now. They do not stay silent, chase me to the point, catch me like a game that is ready to eat at any time.

"Get him, do not get away!" said one of the stout bodies. He seems to have an important position in the group. His overweight body makes him unable to run as fast as his other comrades, just command, all will obey.

Dor! A gunshot sounded toward me, I kept running, with all my might, until one of them was out of sight.

I am free? I stop my pace, catch my breath, look around my body. And all is well. I'm still alive!

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I open my closed eyes, very slowly. My head is dizzy but my body feels light. I looked around me, looking as if some people were crowding something.

"Do not you want to look?" asked a man - next I call him a pale-faced man with a blood on his head and a bottle stuck in his stomach.

I shook my head, and made sure what I saw was right, not a dream let alone a fantasy.

I was silent for a while. The scenery around me, causing my curiosity to spill as well. I asked the people around me, they were silent, indifferent, not answering my question.

"It's useless, they will not hear," said the bottle man who suddenly appeared in front of me.

"You mean?"

"Our world is already different."

"What are you talking about?"

He shook his head, then laughed. As if laughing at my silly-looking questions.

"What's up there, what are you doing?" I asked with a curious look.

"Oh, that?" his hands pointed at some of the people in the crowd. "The victim died again, a victim of a riot like us."

"We?"

"Yeah, see," he handed her a newspaper, and pointed to a photograph emblazoned on the newspaper's headline.

A man was found dead with multiple gunshot wounds on his body. The victim is estimated to be 20 years old. According to the witness, the victim who had just returned from college was immediately chased by a mob of sharp-armed men. Until now, the number of dead riot victims has increased to 10 people.

How surprised I was when I saw a picture of my body lying bloodied in the headline of the newspaper. Hah? That is me? I have dead?