I remember when the bombs fell...in one moment everything changed, not for the better, but for the immediate. Some ran, some fought, died, hid, cried, some turned into rats with chatter or rats that scatter. Before all of these things came to be, there was the dust. Cement collapsed onto and through itself with enough force to cripple lungs within, Earth jumped from it's seat and fled; I witnessed mankind's shared consciousness for the first time within the gasp of a city.
God's tears made the moment to sink in. Heavy rain flooded low-lying areas, downhill alleys carried bloody streams over the feet of people who could only wonder who they just lost.
There was no lightening or thunder to follow the cloud, only changing winds. The gusts took many lives, but everyone knew they'd have to brave it. They weren't heroes, they were just numbers, ones that didn't get called, but sat in line with their neighbors, waiting for fate to be handed to them.
I remember the feeling of hopelessness, hunger, discomfort, and fear. Real fear, not a startled moment, but the kind of fear that can drive a man mad, the type of fear someone can only know when it finally occurs to them, death will knock on their door.
Before The Reaper, before the self-confrontation, and the mental-slide show, the horrors of Society's Mankind, and it's violent decay...I remember the day the bombs fell. I relive every moment before the blast constantly in my mind. I wish that minute never happened, but I recognize it's reality, as punishment deserved, punishment for the sin I'd had made if the bombs never dropped; I know, spoiled in the routine of life, I wouldn't have appreciated the moment as much as it deserved.
I will chase that peaceful moment, in my sleep, through the day, to keep my legs under me, and my mind yearning for the time after, the bombs didn't fall.
