It's such a shame that sometimes you want to help others, want to share
their sorrows but you just can't. It looks like you are just standing there
looking at others, watching them scream, wounded... yet you still feel as if
you hands are tied, that you are so numb that you can't even feel anything.
I'm writing this because I want to tell others about how my friend
suffered and how he died. Well there were no explanation, the cause of his
death was that he was wounded and bled too much that he died. Why was he
wounded you ask? Well due to a bomb blast! I can't exaggerate it enough for
you.
Sunday 30th of June 2013, many thought it was a normal day, go to the
market, and buy vegetables to cook so that when your dad, your brother comes
back from work, they will be able to enjoy their meal. Women went to the market
to buy toys for their children because their children have asked them several
times, their mum asks them, why don’t their children join them as well so they
can pick and choose whatever toy they want! They were happy. They didn't know
that a normal day will bring a shower of sadness and that they will not be able
to play with the new toy they bought.
Let’s just call my friend "Ben", so Ben came home after meeting
his friends, when he came home his mother told him that he had to go to the
market and bring soap and shampoo because it was finished. He smiled and took
the money from his mother, kissed her cheeks and said he will be back in about
15 minutes, he said his goodbye and took his motorcycle and away he went to the
market.
He didn't know that was his last goodbye to his mother, that after he is
gone his mother will curse herself that why did she sent Ben to the market?!
Couldn't she send Ben another time??? But she didn't know... no one knew. Ben
didn't know. He was passing by the mosque and BOOM! He felt little metal balls
piercing through his skin! He tried to crawl and get up but he was too weak. He
saw a man's head on the floor, beside him was a child about 7 years old
submerged in thick blood. He saw a loaf of fresh bread on which there were
splatters of blood.
Ben looked down at his chest; he saw little holes on his shirt from which
blood was gushing out. He reached his phone from his pocket though he couldn't
move his hand. He tried again and felt a pain in his arm. He was full of
wounds. He reached his phone after a lot of tries; he phoned his mother and
told her he was in critical condition. He told her that he needs help. He told
her that she should tell someone who would come and help him, but by that time
it was too late. He stopped talking. All his mother could hear was the sirens
of ambulance, the rushing sounds of footsteps.
On Sunday, 30th of June, 30 people died. In which 10 women and 3 children
(from age 7-10) were included as well. More than 60 injured. So you tell me,
what was their fault? He was only 16 years old...
PS I do apologise if you got offended by something
that I have written.
PPS I would have linked a video but it’s too
gruesome.
"Peace not Pieces"
No comments:
Post a Comment