It was late, 4 or 5 am. I didn't have any fucking clue where I was.
I heard some people screaming outside that ¿House?
Then, one of the dicks, the one who was near to the window, started screaming too.
I was confused, but calm. The floor I was laying on started to shake.
The remaining dicks went on panic. I didn't give any fucks. I lost consciousness.
The next thing I remember is that I woke up alone in that house. I was laying on the floor and everything looked so messed up. Before I had time to woke up and look around, someone knocked the door. I stayed calm, in the floor, without making any noise, but the one who was on the other side of that door kept hitting it more and more strongly. He sure knew that I was there.
He finally broke down the door.
It was him.
It was my monument.
It was me.
They were all dead. The dicks, I mean. And not only them, half of the population of the city, maybe the country, I don't know, died that night. I still don't know what happened. They told me it was something about a war, something about politicians wanting to restore order, something about people killing each other for God's sake, something that I didn't want to understand. I was dead already so I couldn't care less.
That's mine, know it's your turn, raconte-moi une histoire.