Hiroshima (Japan)

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Disclaimer: I do not condone the actions of either the U.S. or Japan during WW2, and I am not trying to glorify them. This is just a fanfiction based very loosely off of reality, remember that. I hope you enjoy!

It's cold.

I can't see anything.

Where am I?

I feel things around my feet and hands.

I don't know what they are.

They feel sharp and rugged.

I hear screaming and people running.

What happened?

Did someone get hurt?

I hope that person isn't me. I don't want them to stress for nothing.

I hear someone talking, it's muffled.

They sound like a boy. Or a man... I can't see them so I don't know.

I feel something take my hands.

"Pl... ser... me..." I hear. Who is that?

Their voice is oddly familiar, though I can't place it.

I start to feel a sharp pain run through my body making me shiver uncontrollably.

"Jap..!" I hear again. It sounds like they're calling my name. 

No, they probably want my mom.

Where is she?

Something starts to shake my hands as my vision slowly comes back.

I gasp once I can make out what's around me.

The trees are all burnt. The houses are absolutely wrecked. Everything is destroyed.

I finally am able to see who's in front of me.

The name of him wasn't clear, but I knew he was the representative of that country we sent cherry blossoms to a while back.

"Japan! Do you know where you are?" I can hear him more clearly this time.

I try to respond, but feel as if I'm being choked and stabbed simultaneously when I try.

The man looks worried and calls for someone.

I want to go home.

I want my mom.

I loose my balance, and fall into rubble, of which cuts my hands.

The man cusses and yells once more. I think he was yelling for someone called "Red Cross."

I want to speak, but I know it'll hurt.

I just look up at him, my eyes asking for help.

He softly picks me up, but stops when I grimace in pain.

He looks nervous and doesn't seem like he knows what to do.

I grab his hand so he won't leave. I don't want to be alone.

He slowly picks me up and walks to a tent with a red cross on it.

Ah, that's what he meant by "Red Cross."

I see people vomiting and yelling in pain as we walk.

Why aren't they helping them?

He takes me inside and sets me down gently on a table. There's a nurse in there with him. She doesn't have a flag.

"How old?" the nurse asks.
'Nine and a half,' I want to answer.
"Uhm... No more than ten." The man says.
"Oh gosh... Let's fix you up, honey."

She grabs a needle from a box and flicks it twice.

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