[h3]Hunter's South Point Park
Long Island City, Queens, New York, USA
July 4, 2023 9:35PM EDT[/h3]

As Samira crossed the park it was one of the most terrifying moments of her life. Not only was she walking further away from her dead father who lay on the grass. She had blood on her hands and she wasn't sure if it belonged to her or if it was the blood that was all over her father's face when she found him. She couldn't stop to think about it though. She couldn't stop to think about any of it. If she let herself process what was going on she would break down hysterically. No one could handle the switch from never seeing a single dead body to literally stepping over them. A few people were still seizing on the ground, but there was nothing Samira could do to help them. There were a few people who seemed to be standing, unaffected but the mist like she was. But the hardest part of it all was the way the fireworks continued to explode in the sky. Each boom resonated loudly throughout the parkland she could feel herself jumping. Would the next firework have that same mist in it? Did the sadistic fucks who planned this find some way to put nails into the fireworks so bits of shrapnel would rain down on them next? The young Wakandan already knew that she would never celebrate another Fourth of July again.

Approaching the girl who made the announcement from the stage, [I]Catherine,[/I] and the guy who jumped into the water Samira wasn't able to get a word in before she had to check her phone for her brother's message. [color=purple]"Oh my god."[/color] She said as the realization hit her. She had her phone! Fishing it out of the pocket of her jeans, she winced as her hands rubbed roughly against the denim. Dialing 9-1-1, she held the phone to her ear until the operator's voice came through clearly. [color=purple]"My name is Samira Mwangi. I'm the daughter of a diplomat. There's been some sort of attack here at Hunter's Point South Park, where the fireworks are going off."[/color] She began to pace back and forth as the operator assured her that someone was coming to inspect the scene as many people watching from home began to call in. This stupid person didn't understand! Trying to maintain her composure, she took a shaky breath. [color=purple]"Stop! You need to listen to me. I'm not some [I]con[/I] telling you this because I have nothing better to do!"[/color] She said, the French she was used to speaking slipping out in her frustration. [color=purple]"I am here! My father is dead, so many people are dead! You must send help!"[/color] Once the dispatch confirmed that multiple ambulances and cops were on their way, she hung up the phone. It may be too late to save most of these people, but hopefully some could still get help.

[color=purple]"Samira."[/color] She answered when asked to introduce herself. [color=purple]"My father..."[/color] Her voice cracked as she tried to explain the situation. She brought a fist to her lips and forced herself to calm down. She couldn't get answers if she couldn't speak coherently. [color=purple]"You knew what was happening before it happened. What was it? Why am I standing here when so many others are gone?"[/color] She gestured vaguely to the bodies blanketing the lawn like snow on a wintery morning. Each time a new firework would explode she would jump and then shut her eyes. Death was death. She didn't need to see it in filters of color as the lights flashed in the sky.