Before I begin, my hopes and prayers go out to those affected by this tragedy.

In this story, I hope to convey what others have not. I strongly believe the world needs peace of mind right now. Instead, people unfortunately focus on the failures of others. Let me just say, we do not officially know how this all happened. We don't know what created it. We don't know where it came from. What we do know is it attacked without warning. In the face of a natural disaster, all you can do is the best you can to survive. So please, leave the finger pointing to the politicians, it's what they do best.

Reporters have flocked to ground zero. Good for them. But they're too late. It's over. All that remains is a ravaged city. There are still a lot of people in need of help. Sending money and food won't be enough. Telling audiences around the world that things 'aren't looking good' is not enough. They need you to drop what you're doing and head over there.

They need good news.

So I'll do exactly that. Unlike most of my colleagues, I was there. And though it may surprise many of my readers, I will say that good can be found anywhere, even in the face of a tragedy unlike any other. When I was there, I wrote down my reactions and the series of events that followed. What you're about to read is the culmination of it.

Monsters don't exist.

That phrase echoed endlessly in my mind. Before me loomed a leviathan of black scales, a culmination of untamable grace and savagery. I closed my eyes, wishing it was all a dream. Though I could not see it, I could hear it. Every breath it took reminded me of thunder. After what seemed like an eternity, I opened my eyes; I couldn't help but stare in awe and disbelief. Its loud shrieks rendered me deaf. I've never heard such a horrifying sound. Millions of years ago, I bet it would've sounded normal. But this is the age of science! The giant before me defies all logic, yet there it was, towering above me like a human would to an ant.

It stomped closer. Cracks splintered the granite beneath my feet. I lost my balance and fell. The cold dusty street caught me. All I could see were the feet of dozens of people running by. I kept expecting someone to stop, scoop me up, and carry me to safety. But I guess when a giant monster terrorizes the city all hopes of heroism go out the window. Then again, I was a foreigner. Not that it mattered, but I've been in Tokyo for a few weeks now, and I've felt more like an outsider than a tourist. But who am I to talk? I hadn't tried saving anyone either.

Hundreds of feet away, its large foot came down and crushed a city bus. When the foot lifted up, I couldn't see the bus anymore. The creature had stomped it into the ground. I felt stinging sensations emanating from all corners of my body. Tiny fragmented debris and glassy shards were pelting me. My skin was no longer comprised of flesh, but layers of dust and dirt. Of the places of my body not covered with dust were stains of blood and shredded cloth.

I can't believe I'm still alive, I thought. Then again, people tend to underestimate just how much punishment the human body can take. It was determined to survive however long it could.

A tremor jolted the street and me along with it. I still couldn't hear anything. Hell, I couldn't even see the damn thing anymore. There was too much smoke. It hindered my vision and clogged my throat, taxing my lungs. I laid over, hoping the creature would step on me. I'll be damned if my final moments consisted of me suffering.

I curled up. I put my hands over my mouth to block the dust. I still couldn't breathe that well. My mind went numb. I gently closed my eyes. As my heart beat at a slower pace, I felt peace. It was a nice way for my body to prepare me for death. I couldn't even feel the quaking ground anymore. All I felt was a strong desire to sleep and escape this nightmare.

And so darkness consumed me.

"Sir, can you hear me? He's not responding. Check his identification," a feminine voice pleaded.

I couldn't see the woman. My eyes were still closed. I no longer felt the cold flat surface of the street. Instead, I felt comfortable. It hadn't occurred to me that my hearing was back. But who was this woman?

My eyes opened. I could see the gray sky above. I must've been out for hours. Smoke lingered in the air. I briefly caught a glimpse of the few buildings still standing. It was a fascinating transition. Not long ago, a giant monster was marching down these streets, unopposed. Now, it was no where to be seen. There was only a ravaged street. My view improved when I was lifted up.

It turned out, I was on a stretcher.

I tried moving, but couldn't. Just my eyes had that luxury. In the backdrop of a smoldering city square, I could see large footprints. There weren't many people. But then this gorgeous Japanese woman bent down, staring directly at me. My God, I never knew Hell could be like Heaven. I didn't think Angels could be anywhere else. But here was one, staring right at me.

"Sir, we're placing you in an ambulance. You will be fine," she promised.

Her English was perfect. How did she know I was American? She must've checked my identification. I must be alive if these paramedics decided to save me. That means I have a good chance of living after all. But did it matter now? All I wanted was to thank my rescuer.

"Who're you?" I whispered. It was difficult to talk. I didn't even know if words came out.

She looked down at me. I don't think she heard me right. I could see it in her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes. All that mattered to her was my safety. I closed my eyes to rest. My body needed to rejuvenate. But I will wake up again. And when I do, I will thank this woman for saving my life.

I can't remember the exact details of my journey to the hospital. I was asleep, but could faintly hear what was going on. A digital voice crackled over the radio, giving instructions. My Japanese isn't superb, but I at least understood what was going on. I could only fathom just how hard it was for these men and women to do their jobs. My mind pictured a Tokyo in ruins. There were thousands of casualties, many more wounded. Firefighters rushed to stop fires from spreading through out the area. Soldiers and Cops alike struggled to restore order amidst this crisis. But these visions faded when I remembered the woman responsible for saving my life.

She was near me, I felt it. It was a shame we had to meet like this. Lord knows I'd prefer to have met her in a trendy club or in a park. She would've had the chance to meet a healthier, better looking gentleman. Now, she'll only remember that poor dirty foreigner she found lying on the side of the street, lucky to be alive.

Quit thinking like a selfish prick, I told myself. Jesus, people died today and all you can think about is how you first met this woman? So what if it didn't play out the way you would've wanted, at least you met her! Hell, she's probably married. All you are doing is wasting your time.

Boy was I wrong. Not that I'm complaining.

I stayed in an overcrowded hospital for a few days. I'm surprised how lucky I was. I felt a bit ashamed, too. There were others less fortunate than I in need of more medical assistance. Strange how not long ago, these people treated me with distrust. After being injured, I was treated like an equal. For that I'm thankful.

I doubt I could've flown back to the States. I didn't think there were any airports left. I should've tried sending a fax to my work about the situation. I write for a magazine company that brings global news to its readers. It's not well known, but I bet I could've changed all that. [And if you're reading this, then I did. Instead, I pitched in and helped out, hoping I'd find her. Days passed, maybe weeks, before my efforts were not in vain. I recognized her on the spot. She was taking a well deserved break in a waiting room, alone. I had to act fast. This break wasn't going to last long for either one of us.

"Hello," I said, smiling.

"Do you need help?" she asked genuinely. She knew I was American. But she didn't recognize me.

"No, I uh, just wanted to thank you," I stuttered. "You saved me. You saved my life."

She blushed. I don't think she's ever been complimented before. It was an awkward moment. It became more awkward when she didn't say anything. I struggled to say more, but words didn't escape my lips. Another paramedic rushed in, speaking Japanese. He was an old man with a powerful voice.

He told her they needed to leave right away. But he unknowingly revealed helpful information to me. He called her Emi. But Emi was almost gone. Before leaving, she stopped to look back at me. On her beautiful face, I saw a smile.

"You're welcome," she said and left.

That's when I stopped writing. All I could find was a piece of paper saying: Monsters Do Exist. I couldn't remember the significance, until now.

My objective was to show you, the reader, of how miracles can happen anywhere, even in disasters. How people from different cultures can put aside their differences to help one in need. All we've heard about on the news is how the military is tracking the creature down. How the Japanese people are suffering. What they neglect to inform you is how they're banding together to nurse one another's wounds.

They've united.

We need to do so too. If we don't, then we will turn into a monster. Some of us already have. Listen, I didn't want to dwell on the creature, but I will briefly do so now that my story is nearly complete. The Western world calls it Godzilla. The Japanese call it Gojira. People have called for its death. People have blamed one another for its creation. I've heard reports of its connection to nuclear weapons.

So what?

It destroyed many lives. For that, I don't hate it, I pity it. Unlike humans, it wasn't aware of the consequences of its actions. I'm not saying we shouldn't kill it. It is a hazard to our way of life. But I do not hate it. I never will. In many ways, it made my life better. It helped an entire nation unite in the wake of its passing. But I don't think we can kill it. Whatever Godzilla is, it's something no weapon could ever destroy. He's a symbol, one that'll last forever.

For those interested, I do plan on writing a novel. What you're reading is fine, but it's too short, it doesn't do what I've seen justice. Stay tuned.

-Toby Martin, Garuda Magazines Inc.

Not long after posting his article, Toby Martin received critical acclaim. He didn't change the world, but he did inspire its people to. In partnership with the Red Cross Foundation, Toby helped bring hope to Japan and its people. When Toby published his novel, it instantly became a New York Times bestseller. In it, Toby chronicled stories told by multiple survivors and how their lives seemed to improve after the disaster.

Lives were lost and made on that fateful day. Toby Martin was one of the many lives changed. But miracles can happen twice. After promoting his book, Toby later reunited with Emi, the woman responsible for saving his life, in a park. Since then, they've had a strong, healthy relationship. When he asked Emi to marry him, she said yes. During their wedding speech, Emi mentioned how Toby had a habit of bringing up how she saved his life. In front of family and friends, Emi proclaimed he saved hers too. They're expecting their first child in January.

Nobody knew what became of Godzilla. After his initial attack, the creature was last seen heading for the Pacific Ocean. As quick as he had appeared, Godzilla vanished without a trace. Searching parties will scour the darkest depths of the sea to find him, but the world won't hold its breath. In an ironic twist, most people now see the creature as an omen, a harbinger of life and death. Wherever it goes, lives are lost. But after its passing, people band together, and strive to create a new beginning, one where lives are free to change and be rid of the shackles of past regrets.

For now, Man will passively study the ocean shores, never knowing if the creature would rise to challenge them once more.