By: Jessica Reader

August 6th, 1945

I remember, that horrifying day...

I mean, you could say it started out so normal, I guess? Getting out of bed, getting changed, doing that whole morning routine bit.

Except, something was different. This time my house was empty.. you see it had been like that for some time now, a year in fact. But, that's what happens when your family is run down by some drunk lunatic, a year before. 

But, as my psychiatrist once said, it's better not to dwell on what you can't fix.

Though, it's funny these doctor's don't seem to get it. I mean, they must think it's alright, telling someone they hardly know basically too, "Buck up camper, you only just watched your wife's head come face to face with a complete stranger's windshield... you'll get over it... Eventually, It only takes time."

Heh, Time... that's all they say, it take's time and forgetting?... I mean how the hell can you forget something like that of all things? Especially, when you go to sleep at night? Seeing that sight, replay over and over in your head til you wake up in tears screaming their name?...

But, no matter... it doesn't matter how much you dwell on it...

it won't bring the dead back.

So, today of all day's just like I have done for the past year now since their death. I left the house as usual around 7:15 am to visit them. Wondering to myself as people pass by me going about their day.

Just how long is all of this bad luck going to last?

I mean, first the war's, going on in the outside world, Then losing my loved one's, it;s just too much to bare in my opinion? Though, however, as  I pondered this after making the short journey there.

 I lite the funerary incense, thinking about it again. what would happen if the crash never happened?...

Would I still have my family?...

Would I still be able to watch my child grow up? In this beautiful yet fucked up world?

...probably not?

Though, I guess they are in a better place now.. right?

Anyway, after about half an hour of wondering about what could of or should have happened. I overheard the usual air raid alert going off all over the city.

Which seemed to happen more frequently nowadays?

But for some reason on a day like today. Hearing that sound, loud enough to make my ears ring. Startled me?

Because I guess deep down. A part of me did not want to die? maybe a part of me was hoping that this was all just a test? like the others. and not the real thing? Though, by the time the alert had been lifted, it was already 8:00 am. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, not realizing it might be my last, I heard the usual radio broadcast, warning us that it would be advisable, to head to our nearest shelter.

And as I did so, adhering to the warning's as usual. A part of me wished that the war would soon be over and our countrymen would no longer have to live in fear, though honestly just like everything else that has happened in the last year, my wishes never came to fruition.

About fifteen minutes later, however, as I made my way to the only safe haven, that might have saved lives that day. I heard the dreaded roaring sound of jet engines close by.

Slowing my pace a little, while trying to get an inkling of what was going on. My eye's widened in horror. As I noticed the tail end of a B-29 fighter jet hovering just slightly above the clouds.

Before I even had time to register what was happening in front of me, I noticed something drop from the jet's undercarriage?  Watching as the parachute deployed, it was then and there the horrifying realization of death came to fruition.

As the metal nuclear ball, the American's deemed "little boy" fell faster and faster towards the ground. Without thinking, I began running towards the shelter, as fast as my legs could carry me. Even though I did not take into consideration, that in a matter of seconds it wouldn't matter.