Beyond

Chapter Four: The Bombs of Dallas

                Chapter Four: The Bombs of Dallas

        I walk along the dirty, rocky path that is bright from the shining lights above.  A truck zooms by, some people run near me, and I don't dare to look up from my boots that I am blankly staring at during this time.  I blink a few times, trying to dry the tears that hide inside of me, beggining to come out and be free for once.

        I've held in tears of this sort of pain for a long time.  The last time I had cried was maybe a few years ago, when Duron had been taken away from us.  He played the fatherly role in my life that I only had for two years of my life; why did I have it for such a short time?  Well, I'll tell you.

        In fact, I experienced the nuclear war up close.  I was only two and I experienced so much that day, which has scarred me for my entire life and now haunts me like a ghost inside a house that was once home to a family that has died within it over the years.  Usually, children never remember their sights from two; but it was such a major thing, I can't seem to forget every detail.

        It was in the city of New York when it happened; we had just gotten out of church on Easter-Sunday, my papa holding me on his back and my mother not too far aside from us as we walked on the sidewalks of the city.  We were laughing about something my father had on his face during his sermon, as most good families would during the time of safety without the radiation or struggles that we face today.

        I remember the exact clothes we wore.  I was dressed in a white and blue plaid dress, poofy and crawling over my father's shoulders as we trotted along the sidewalk.  My hair was tied into braids and a white bow was on the top, along with white panty-hoes and clogs.  My mother, beautiful as ever, with her dark skin and black stylish hair, looked radiant with her royal blue dress and black heels.  My dad just wore his suit and blue tie, still looking nice and neat as every Sunday.

      We were having a fine time, ready to go somewhere for a spring festival, with an easter egg hunt and such.  It was my first time, so I was really excited.

        However, the excitement died when we heard a large bang and looked up to see planes soaring above us.  While they zoomed around, we noticed that the building, where the bang came from, had an explosion arising from it.  This wasn't their atomic bomb; they decided to torture us with actual bombs before the big blow.

        "Bombs!" my father gasped.  Right as he did, a bomb exploded just by us, causing the building to fall to the side, collapsing over us.  My father began to run super fast, heading straight for the area that would be uneffected by the collapsing building.  Once we get to that spot, my father turned around and screamed, "Kya!  Kya, are you there?!"

        "Here!" I saw my mother running towards the safe-zone, close to us.  Standing in front of me to keep me from running out for her, my father called her, the building getting closer to falling on top of her.

        "Hurry, Kya!  Please!" he called out.

        "I'm com--" she stopped in her tracks and turned around, the building straight over her head.  She looked back at us and held out her hand.  "I'm sorry."  Then, the building crashed over her, rocks and cement and glass shattering and crumbling over on top of her precious body that I had only known for two years of my life.  My father and I screamed out a terrible scream, destroyed by the action that just took place.

        I recall running towards the demolished building at full speed, away from my father who called me to come back.  I dived at the pieces of the building, digging at them for hope that I may find her.  Yet, somewhere deep inside, I knew that there was some cruelty that just occurred; death.

        Sobbing, I buried my face in my hands.  It was a brief moment of silence until my father swooped me up and took me to the streets.  Once we got there, my father took out his phone and called someone, which I assumed was Uncle Duron, since he murmured, "Duron, are you in the city?" and I remember how Duron and Zoë came to pick us up and drive us away from the chaos that happened.

        From afar, while driving across the empty roads to avoid the bombs.  I looked out my window just in time to see the large flash of the nuclear bomb, and I heard the boom as the sound echoed through the entire land.  I remember the scream I let out, terrified at the sights, crying for my lost mother who was left behind in that obliberated city.  Why did we ever leave her?  Why didn't she run faster?  Why did that have to happen?

        Then, that all left to the alcoholic addiction my father soon got into.  He abused me often, which led me to staying with my aunt while he died of depression in his own home; or, at least I think he died.  I am not so sure where his fate lies.

        But I know I will never forget the screams, the booms, and much more that occurred that day. If only I could.