Sarmad Nazir Ahmad

I opened my textbook, and suddenly I was overcome by grief like a tsunami. Although I wasn’t aware of it – it might even have been subconscious – a tear escaped my eye and dropped onto the textbook page. That single tear was for Shafay, who had warned me of what was to come, and my friends, who had to go through the same things as me. But mostly, it was for myself – a boy who had done nothing wrong, but still had to pay the price.

I was in a clearing, and in front of me was something which belonged in a sci-fi novel. It was shaped like an airplane, but with what seemed like massive rockets attached in the back, and gigantic gliders. In a way it was like a spaceship – a massive, dangerous, fighter spaceship.