RESIGNATION LETTER

It's 3am.

I've been watching coverage of the protests in Acheron for hours. The loop keeps repeating. I can't look away.

We've seen this all before, of course. Angry students. Clashes with Domestic Security. Protests turning violent. The images are horrifying, but not shocking. It's been eight years since the Resettlement Riots but most of us who witnessed them first-hand still have vivid memories of armed gangs patrolling the streets, snipers taking shots at immigrant families as they rushed home from church, unconscious and broken bodies left lying on the sidewalks as D.S.F. sirens sent clashing groups scattering into the night, and hatred. So much hatred.

By comparison, the images coming out of Acheron seem almost tame. Hundreds of students being evacuated from a school in single file lines, their hands stretched high over their heads to indicate they are not a threat? Sounds like a Tuesday.

As I watch, the smooth voice of a demographically neutral reporter relays the casualty list for what must be the twentieth time. Just four dead: the principal, two students and a D.S.F. agent, all yet to be identified. That's not too bad. It barely meets the standard to be called a mass shooting. So why all the media attention?

Normally this kind of footage would be followed by teary-eyed reunions between scared kids and grateful parents, all thanking God they got out alive...but that didn't happen this time. There haven't been any reunion videos because there haven't been any reunions. The kids were rounded up and loaded onto busses to be taken to a "safe location" like they always are, but that's the last anyone has seen of them. Instead of being released to their parents, they were taken into custody. All of them. And no one is saying exactly why.

It's not surprising that many parents have taken to the streets tonight. We haven't seen this type of mass detention within our own borders for years, and we've never seen it with children.

NNN (National News Network) must have thought this was odd, too. They sent a live crew to cover the protest instead of sticking to the more cost-effective method of scouring social media for usable footage. The extra expense was worth it. They were able to broadcast a stunning wide-shot of Victoria Square, complete with thousands of screaming protesters, against the backdrop of City Hall and the D.S.F. Administration Building. It was all rather cinematic, until the point when it stopped.

There was a muffled bang, the sound of screaming, and then...nothing.

D.S.F. and city officials are saying an unknown gunman in the crowd discharged a weapon. The distinctive sound of a gunshot induced the kind of instant panic that only exists in a country plagued by mass shootings. Protesters fled for cover in every direction, fully aware of how much damage a single shooter could do to a large crown in an open space. People were injured in the scuffle, but so far no deaths have been reported. "The square is empty and quiet now. There is no reason to be alarmed."

But I am alarmed. Something about this just feels wrong.

I'm scheduled to be on a flight to Brussels at 5:30. Four years of tireless work and my newly acquired honors degree in journalism have landed me my dream job - Junior Correspondent in the European division of the C.O.N.D. (Confederation of National Democracies) Press Core. I've wanted this job my whole life. Travel. Excitement. Insider access. My bags are packed and my farewells have been made. The ticket to my future is literally sitting on the desk in front of me.

I'm not gong to Brussels.