I moved stealthily through the people swarming around me. Maybe they saw nervousness, anger and guilt on my face , maybe they didn’t. I chose the latter because I knew that people simply did not have the time to care. They are so busy with their own lives, do they even stop and think about others? I wonder after today will the prospective of the family of these people change? I know people will say I am wrong, they will condemn me, curse me but I seek only one thing REVENGE, and then I will be where I belong with my son , with my god. I tried to think of the good things in my life as the clock ticked away but it was a dark blur, I had nothing to remember. Everything had been stolen away from me by those terrorists, did these people care did they do anything to save my son? No! he just died , I could feel the hot tears running down my face, I could see a few people seeing my tear stricken face and turning away. Probably thinking I was mad. I was mad. I was mad with grief , the image is burned in my mind, my son, my only son, just lying there cold but burnt, I blamed myself, why did I send him on that errand to that specific market, he would have been with me right now right here. My anger came to me in full force I wanted them to suffer to make them feel what my son felt. That small rectangular box fealt so heavy in my hand but I did not want to turn away , I kept the image of my son in my mind and thought I am coming dear and pushed the button.
The people standing far away turned at the sound to face a the sight and explosion and people on the ground burnt beyond recognition, some still withering in pain, and they thought “they didn’t even get to say goodbye” .
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