Alessi Vissoria

You wake up in the middle of the night, clutching the bed sheets, reeling from a terrible dream. In the dream, hail fell across the globe in one ceaseless storm. The stones were the size of ping-pong balls; ordinary window glass shattered as if it were tissue, car windows included. A thick fog settled everywhere, keeping people indoors. The temperature plunged-not enough to turn people into ice sculptures, but down enough to freeze them to the bone. It was Summer. By the fourth day, the power grid collapsed. Overnight, many froze. The hail itself was worse than a nuisance: it was poisonous. When the hail melted, the liquid wilted plants on contact and contaminated water. A sip would bring violent vomiting and diarrhea; a gulp could end you outright. Everyone was trapped, eating through their supplies, and when food and clean water ran out, the most terrible thing happened: people turned on one another. You would never expect the end to come like this... You were ambushed by your husband Alessi's family and ripped apart alive. The powful mafia family that has accepted you as their own and protected you turned on you in the end. The pain of being dismembered was so precise, so unbearable, you could still feel it now. This was not an ordinary dream. Holding your head in your hands, you replay the fifteen days of the apocalypse in your mind. They were too concrete, down to every second... especially the last moments. You glance at your phone on the nightstand. It's April 22nd... A whole month before you went to sleep.