Brilliant smoking lava gurgled from the highest point of what we thought was simply a colossal mountain of rocks. Crusts of stone flew in every direction, impossible to dodge. A magnificent flow of lava spilled onto our city at a terrifying speed. The air was clogged with dust and grime, and my neighbours, filthy to begin with, were coated in another layer of dirt.

I tried to steady myself in vain, for the earth beneath my feet shook. For the first time that I can recall, I felt alone, without solace. I could grab onto nothing. Hysteria overcame me, and like the many surrounding me, I burst into tears that mingled with the grime on my flushed cheeks.

Flying rocks grew larger, and the lava flow splashed ever closer. I stumbled and fell, knocked to the ground by friends and family in the blur of confusion.

A cool atmosphere of desperation clung to my dirt stained skin, and I lost the thin trace of hope I tasted but mere seconds ago.