Home is silent, far away from the chaos, far away from everything. The paramedics had me call home, call my mom's work, anything to get a hold of a guardian. I couldn't, of course, no surprise there. She isn't home, for all I know she might be on a work trip to Japan or meeting with the President. Her job is to be a diplomat, not look after me. Sure, being a diplomat is important, necessary even, but you'd think even she could spare a minute after her daughter nearly died. Guess not though.

Before my dad died she could, but maybe she was sparing time for him, not for me. It's not true though, I really do believe my mom cares. Now that my dad's gone though, she doesn't know how to deal with anything not work related. I can forgive her for that, I have to forgive her for that. After losing him anyone would've shut down, gotten lost in their grief. Maybe if she had remembered me though neither of us would have had to drown, not alone anyway. Still, I saved a mans life today. It would have made my dad proud. But is it enough for her?

The man I saved, Jack. Where did he go? Why did he go? Perhaps all the reporters camera's made him nervous for some reason. In the few minutes I met him he didn't really seem like the most upright of men, stern face, almost cruel. If nothing else in pain. Of course, you can't judge someone by their cover, or at least you shouldn't. Doesn't mean it's never accurate. He's gone now though, whatever he did or didn't do, whoever he is or isn't, it simply doesn't matter. Every life is worth saving, no matter what was done with it. His leaving doesn't brand him a criminal either, when I saw the crowd waiting I would've been more than happy to flee. It's over now though, best forgotten, put out of mind. So I turn on the TV, switch to the news. Whatever is happening I need to know.

"It may sound unbelievable, but the US government agency SHIELD has had their classified documents released onto the internet. It is not yet clear who released this information, however experts are saying that it looks to be an inside job. Our data specialists are still working to decrypt all of the files. We have been informed that the flying machines that were hoovering over DC just hours ago, before crashing to the earth are called "Helicarriers". The Helicarriers in question are said to be part of "Project Insight". Project Insight appears to have been some sort of world security measure gone wrong. We do not yet know why the helicarriers crashed, or why these files have appeared online. Stayed tuned to ABC News for real time updates on what is happening in DC. And now for the weather."  The anchor looks like he's about to laugh at the ridiculous change in pace before his face disappears from the screen.

Helicarriers. Helicarriers had been flying over my home, helicarriers had fallen from above me. Somewhere in the city Ms. Wyn is buried, alone, maybe dead. A hero would go back for her, even if their head was spinning, even if they were terrified. But maybe it's time to let the heroes be heroes. Also, I was prohibited from going back to the wreaked portion of DC. They probably couldn't stop me, but I don't feel like getting arrested today on top of everything else. 

"We are covering the unfolding story in DC, with an early estimates saying hundreds are dead, and countless more trapped in the rubble of what downtown DC. We have Marie on the scene." The shot changes to an all-to-familiar one, one of destruction.

"Thank you John." The blonde haired, too much makeup wearing, ridiculously high heeled reporter smiles a wide, fake smile into the screen, she's afraid. "We're on the ground right by what used to be the George Washington University campus. Now though, as you can see there is very little but ruin here. This is Ryan Mantle, a junior at the university. Ryan, can you tell me exactly what happened as you saw it?" The reporter asks a tall young man, dusk turning his reddish hair grey. His eyes are haunted afraid. Maybe that's what all our eyes look like now.

"Well I walking to class with a bunch of my friends when this giant shadow came, like a big cloud had covered the sun or something. So you know, we looked up. Except it wasn't a cloud, it was like a flying aircraft carrier or something. But then they started shooting, and it started to rain fire and machine part and-" He has to stop talking and turn away from the camera for a moment, then he swallows and keeps going, "The machine crashed right by us, and buildings were collapsing. It was like, like the entire world was exploding or something. Somehow me and all my friends made it out alive, but I don't know how many people are still trapped." Ryan turns then and walks away, unable to look at the camera any longer. The reporter comes back on.

"That was Ryan Mantle from George Washington University. His story is being echoed from dozens of survivors. But even in this time of uncertainty the best is coming out in some people." The screen changes again, flashing to pictures of people helping others out of the destruction. At first I'm barely glancing at the screen, until it's my face that's on it, projected for all the world to see.

It's me and Jack stumbling out of a destroyed street, him leaning mostly on me, my small frame dwarfed by his. The clip only plays for a moment before changing to another similar video, but it's definitely me. A boy carrying a girl out of a collapsed building follows, a couple both using each other a crutch comes next. The images flash, images of people pushing through their own pain to save someone else. All I can think though, is that for one instant in my life I was a hero, a hero big enough, brave enough, strong enough, simply enough, to make my father proud. 

Except I'm afraid. So, so afraid. The entire world is collapsing and now I've been branded some sort of hero. There's not time to be afraid, no time to worry about Ms. Wyn, no time to curl up on the couch and bury myself in blankets. I do it anyway. Because I have to, because otherwise I might just fall apart.