I looked up at the smoke-covered sky. The smell of exploded bombs and bullet shell clogged the air with horrible fumes. I sat on a bunker, wondering why this happened. The streets were eerily empty. Not a sound but the scattering of a mouse going across a tiled floor. I felt like I could cry, the mixture of smog and knowing my family had died. I stood their for a moment,
collecting myself. The streets of a once bustling metropolis, empty. It seems like the screams of all the innocent people who died here still haunt these streets, silently. I looked down at myself. I was bruised, scratched, a gaping wound drew a jagged line across my arm. I had no shoes, my clothes tattered into almost rags. I was unarmed, not ready to take on whatever this world was about to give me. Yet, I couldn't stand here and just wither away. I looked beyond, into the gray sky. It was like the voice of death was calling me forward. But it would not lead me into hell. I will combat it. I will survive. And I walked forward, preparing for whatever this world will give me.
collecting myself. The streets of a once bustling metropolis, empty. It seems like the screams of all the innocent people who died here still haunt these streets, silently. I looked down at myself. I was bruised, scratched, a gaping wound drew a jagged line across my arm. I had no shoes, my clothes tattered into almost rags. I was unarmed, not ready to take on whatever this world was about to give me. Yet, I couldn't stand here and just wither away. I looked beyond, into the gray sky. It was like the voice of death was calling me forward. But it would not lead me into hell. I will combat it. I will survive. And I walked forward, preparing for whatever this world will give me.