The pages flew from the CHARRED pink diary. I picked one up. It was incomplete and SEVERELY burned, but two things were left to haunt me: the date July 20TH, the date of the end my INNOCENCE, or perhaps, ignorance, and the name Suzy Nicholas. This was a diary of a little girl who lived next door to me in the apartment complex near Washington, D.C. This building, my home, was now a HEADSTONE for more than thirty families: men, women,...children. The bombers had NO FEELINGS. They didn't care who or what they DESTROYED lives, buildings,...INNOCENCE. It's hard to care when you blow up the Capitol with an ATOMIC BOMB.
I had to tear my eyes from the broken plates and glasses, still awaiting a family's last dinner. A BURNING tear fell from my face. I promptly dried it off and continued to search for survivors. No, not survivors. WE are the ones to be TORMENTED, haunted, scarred, etcetera...Etcetera...ETCETERA! I walked through rubble and debris for hours PLAGUED by an eerie quiet, a kind of calm that sends chills down your spine. I began to think it was POINTLESS to search for survivors, the SCORNED. I couldn't tell if it would be good "luck" or BAD "LUCK" to survive. A BLOOD-curdling scream that dwindled into a hoarse, struggling MOAN came from a large hill of debris. I rushed to the mound to find a STUNNED mother protecting her two small, INNOCENT children from the fallen building.
"Are you alright?!" I SCREAMED while clearing some rubble.
"No, my back is BROKEN. Take my children to the nearest medic station. LEAVE me..." And with those words still lingering in the air, the mother DIED. The GIRL, the YOUNGER, with dirty blonde hair and BRIGHT blue eyes began to pour out a slow river of TEARS. Innocence has been FORGOTTEN this day. IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME!?!
No, there IS NO INNOCENCE apart from ME. YOU humans once knew INNOCENCE. But YOU MURDERED HIM a long time ago. "For ALL have FALLEN." "There is NONE righteous, NO NOT ONE! THERE IS NONE WHO DO GOOD!"
"It will be ALRIGHT," I said half to myself, half to the children. "I'll make sure you're SAFE. Let's go to the medic station over there." I pointed to a WHITE tent half a mile away. I bent down so that the SOBBING girl could wrap her arms around my neck to be carried. I slowly stood up and, taking the DAZED boy by the hand, began the long journey back before sundown.
You'll heal the PHYSICAL pain. But what about the EMOTIONAL? The MENTAL? THE ETERNAL?!