I look around.  My eyes scan the streets for anything dubious. I walk anxiously as I follow my platoon, trudging behind. It’s tiring waking up early each day, having to patrol the streets. However, I am getting used to it; it’s my job. I continuously walk down the quiet street. Suddenly, the squadron comes to a halt. I glance up, curious to see why we had to stop. I see my patroon leader staring up and squinting in the bright daylight. The platoon commander’s face slightly pales. I slowly follow his gaze and spot a single plane.

“Run!” Run to safety!” Lieutenant Miyazaki, our platoon leader, bellows, his voice in dismay.

My stomach drops at his words. I suddenly feel nauseated, my legs quivering under my weight. Lieutenant Miyazaki points to a street opposite of where the planes headed and starts running. The troop starts running too, following the lieutenant. I run after them, hoping to not get left behind, as I am not the fastest. What is happening? Why is he so frightened? As we keep running, I get farther behind. I can feel my heart pounding against my chest, the blood pumping through my body. As we run longer, I get further behind. I try to catch up, but I can’t. 

I feel the wind hit my face. I reach my hands out in front of me. My eyes shut close, waiting for the impact. I hit the hard ground, but I quickly recover. I stand up, almost falling over again. I look in front of me, only to see the street empty. I look around...nothing. Did they run off without me? I think. I start sprinting forward...still nothing. I eventually reach an area where there’s a dirt path that trails to the right. Should I follow it? I debate this idea in my head. I stand there, panic, dread, fear, the feelings overwhelm me.

I’m laying on the ground, flat on my back. I groan, trying to get up only to feel an odd weight on my body. Thoughts race through my head, and I can’t even comprehend the majority of them. I try and sit up, my hands forcing myself up from the hard gravel ground. I sit up and push the rubble and debris off of me. I’m barely injured. The building must have blocked most of the blast, and the building was a light beige color, so it could reflect most of the heat radiation. I remove the rest of the debris off my leg, and I stand up with great effort.

I look in front of me. The scene puts me in absolute horror. I absorb the surroundings. The city that used to be my home, and the home of hundreds of thousands of other people too, is gone. Everything is charred, broken, lifeless. Bodies are everywhere. The buildings are reduced to soot covered debris, although some distant buildings are still standing. The sky is a muted purple and grey, and the smell of burning flesh is overwhelming. The trees are charred, and many are fallen.

I notice a ragged movement to my right. I realise it’s another person, and I rush to go to help him. While trying to get to the man, a sharp pain sparks through my leg. It must have been the debris from the building. His skin is a raw red color, and his clothes are torn. I help him up, ignoring the acute pain in my leg. 

“Are you alright?” I ask the man, even though I know he isn’t.

He nods slowly. I look around again. Why would they do this? I reflect. Anger pulses through me. So many innocent civilians died because of this. Families were killed. Lives were taken. Why would they do this? I think again. This question keeps popping up in my mind, but the only thing I’m focused on right now is survival. 

The rest of this atrocious day I help other survivors. Many have large, vile burns and are severely injured. Grime coats their frightened faces. Blood soaks into their clothes. My anger still rages on. I will never forget what happened today, and I’m sure others won’t too. 

-Emily Zhong