You were walking down the streets of New York City to meet your friend, Ari for, a coffee when you noticed fighter jets, alarms and people staring in one singular direction.

When you turned to look, there was an explosion. It threw you into a wall of a building, knocking you out cold.

You awoke in a theatre. The ash and smoke in your lungs encouraged you to cough but a man’s hand over your mouth quickly prevented that from happening.

Ari was crouched next to you, his eyes wide and free hand placing a finger to his lips whilst the other remained over your mouth.

That’s when you realised the hundreds of people piled into a crowded room yet it was silent. Eerily silent.