<div style="text-align: justify">No matter which site she pulled up on her phone, the news was either not updated anymore, or the updates were coming at a rate that made them impossible to follow and decipher. Wiping her cheek with one hand, taking care of those few, stray tears, Claire pulled her legs closer to her body, sitting on the ground in a small toilet cubicle. Sounds – screams and shrieks, pained and very raw in their tone – filled the bathroom through the closed doors, reminding the woman of the chaos that has transpired in what seemed like a blink of an eye.<br/>
<br/>
There was no saying what was coming next, or worse, <i>who </i>was coming next; with the smallest of whimpers, Claire turned the phone’s screen off and clutched onto the device for her dear life, shaking like a leaf in her thin, summer dress. She didn’t really know how long she had been in the toilet for, or how long was it going to be she needed to keep hiding, but the sounds coming from the inside of the supermarket seemed to die down slowly. Licking her lips, Claire slowly stood up and pushed the door open.<br/>
<br/>
<b><i>1 hour earlier</i></b><br/>
<br/>
“Claire, look!”<br/>
<br/>
The blonde woman turned her head around, the ice-cream cone in her hand already melting to a point where the sweet creamy treat ran down her knuckles. “Mmm?” she cooed, licking her fingers and walking closer to her friend. “Isn’t it quite cute?” the other girl said, pointing to a yellow t-shirt. She took it from the rack and put it to her body. “What do you think, Claire? Claire?”<br/>
<br/>
Claire blinked a few times, the sounds finally coming back to her. She let out a deep sigh and took a step or two to the side, putting her free hand against the wall. The ice-cream dripped onto the floor. Her head was spinning a little, but mostly, she kept feeling an annoying, slightly painful drilling in her head, as if something was trying to wire its way right into her brain.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, you okay?” Her friend came closer with worry clearly painted on her face, and Claire nodded weakly. “Y-yeah.. I think it was just some- <i>ouch</i>!” The feeling exploded in her head again. Dropping to her knees, Claire pressed her hand to her temple. The music became distorted for what seemed like forever, and it was difficult for Claire to open her eyes; the sounds made her so vulnerable to every little thing that the supermarket’s lights kept exploding with pure white in front of her.<br/>
<br/>
“Norah, are you okay?” She murmured, finally looking towards her friend.<br/>
<br/>
She was laying on the ground, motionless, eyes still open, and blood seeping out of her nose and ears. Claire felt her stomach turn and recoiled; around her, sounds of people being in pain became much louder.​</div>