My Experience

There is a saying in Tibetan, 'Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.'

No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that's our real disaster. ― Dalai Lama XIV

The weather was perfect for a Marathon. Maybe even one of the best days that I've seen. It wasn't too hot and it wasn't too cold. And as Goldilocks would have said, it was just right. A high of 53 degrees and a low of 43 degrees. Not a cloud in the sky. The streets crowded with spectators. Especially Boylston Street in Back Bay Boston, the destination for the finish line. This is exactly what a Marathoner dreams of on their big day. They've trained all year, qualified for this and now they're here. They've qualified for the Boston Marathon, the 117th Boston Marathon. But no one expected that to happen. No one expected that on that day, April 15th, 2013, Patriots' Day here in Boston, the air would be shattered by screams of anguish and horror.

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"Yea! Go Auntie Kelly!! Woohoo!" I shouted, waving my hands in the air and snapping as many pictures as I could on my iPhone 5. She crossed the finish line with a time of three hours, forty-nine minutes. This was her third or fourth Boston Marathon, but my memory is so spun I can't remember. She'd been training all year alongside everyone else competing in this amazing race. And she's finally finished!

Almost three fourths of the race's population, which was an estimate of 23,000 runners, had already finished. And at that time, the largest amount of runners had been finishing as well. Leaving the sidewalks crowded with fans cheering on and waiting for family members.

So many charities had raced for their cause. Such as the Dana-Farber Charity, Team Bruschi, Sandy Hook and so many more. But at the time, Sandy Hook was the one that stuck out to me the most. Since their attack hadn't even been four months prior the marathon, they still came and ran in the victims' honor.

Since the VIP bleachers had begun to get crowded, my Dad, Uncle and I decided to head up to our hotel room over at the Lenox Hotel, which is also located on Boylston Street. We've stayed in the same room every for the last ten years watching the Marathon. It's a huge day for my Mom and Aunt, whom both had finished already. And now the two of them have been inside the VIP tent, and were probably walking back towards the hotel along Exeter Street. I'd see them in only a few minutes, where my sister had made a special finish line for them out of construction paper. She's always done this, and it's so much fun seeing my Mom and Aunt step out of that elevator and to hear all the cheering for them as I hold the finish line with my sister.

But that hasn't happened yet. The lobby is packed with people as they greet family members after they finish. And since there were so many people, we decided to take the stairs up to our room instead, even if it was four flights. My sister was sitting in the hallway with a friend that came to support my mom alongside us. Signs for my Aunt and Mom lay alongside the walls, awaiting their arrival.

Because of all the pictures I had taken, my phone was nearly dead. So I decided that, before my Aunt and Mom came up the elevator, I would charge it and save the battery for any pictures I might want later. I always hate it when I the battery on my phone is dead and I want to get a picture. I don't need to go get the key from my Dad because we kept the door unlocked. We used the deadlock to do that. So I plugged in my phone, and I felt it vibrate as the charging began. But that's not the only thing that vibrates.

Because suddenly the floor was shaking below me. And the loudest explosion I had ever heard split the air in half.

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I ran as fast as I could towards the window. At first, I believed that it was a celebratory cannon. And that's what everyone believed at first. Until I truly saw everything.