I remember; that day had been bright. The sun had been warm upon bare skin, even when it was so early in the spring. Not even the blossoms, so very small on the tree, had seen fit to open themselves for the sun.

I remember; going about my morning as if it were normal. It was normal, sweetly normal. Then I had wished for something different in my day, now I only cry for what I once had.

I remember; dropping off my sweet daughter at her daycare and going to work. I wish I had been able to see my husband before he left that morning. I wish I could've told him how much I loved him. I wish I had told my little girl how much she meant to me.

I remember; the sudden news report, telling anyone, and everyone to escape the city. They told us to leave, to find safety.

I remember; my boss and friends telling me it was just a hoax. The media or the government were playing tricks on us. They told me we shouldn't leave until they give us good reason to. I wish I had listened to the television for once.

I remember; the explosion. The smell of burnt metal, plastic, and human flesh. The scent was horrible. The heat was worse.

I remember; running for my life. Running from the gun fire and the explosions. The city was dying, the sky oozed blood, the streets heaved the death oils and acid.

I remember; the city grew black, my loved ones were gone. The night was long and frightening. Every light had been pulled from its socket like limbs from a preyed upon animal.

I remember; the city screamed that night, it screamed its pain and grew silent and dead by the rise of the sun on the ashy, bloodstained horizon.

I remember; I rose with the grey sun, and found that shallows graves sat silent in the forms of the burnt, mangled bodies.

I remember; the city was silent. The people dead, or too afraid to cry out.

I remember; the day was bitter and cold. The trees were but black ghosts, their children dead. I was a ghost, alive without living.

I remember; food had been given, but it turned to ashes in my mouth. Healing materials were given, but they turned to acid on my skin. I was offered a new life, but life had no meaning.

I remember; that time passed without significance. They days came and went. The city remained where it lay; no one cared anymore to help those who had survived. There were other places that needed help.

I remember; every day became a struggle with death, every night became a struggle with fear. And the city remained dark, and bodies decayed on the street. Bones littered the ground now, and death is where life once thrived.

I remember; that life had once been in me, once been in this city. But somehow, I don't remember what it was like. I don't remember what it was like to live.

I remember; someone told me once, as I dug their graves, that living was a privilege that we abused. Living was a privilege, only survival remains.