I sat their on the church stairs, barely able to take a breath. The ringing in my ears, the dust in the air, the people running back and forth, in panic. I look around me and I see body after body, full of blood, carried and rushed out the church doors.
In the background I can hear the screaming and with each tear a mother cries and falls to the ground, the earth beneath me rattles. Each hug a father gives to their dying child, I feel their arms around me holding me close. Every sibling that holds their loved ones hands for the last time, trying to tell them it’s going to be okay; I feel their fingers in-between mine.
Read More