The red color of the explosion was the only thing appearing in his eyesight at the moment when he was sitting on the ground with, his knees directly wet by the moist soil. His eyes startingstarted to get blurry with the number of tears gathering and stagnant in the eye. It isthere, like a dam that was no longer able to accommodate the load behind it. His tears falling out of anguish with what had happened before his eyes. It waswasn't his fault, isn't?was it? He clutched the shirt onto his chest tightly; he. He screamed loudly, seemingly, as his life was dependingdepended on it, and he wishes the god could've seenwished that God could see and heardhear him and willwould give him the ability to turn the timetime back whento before everything went beyond of his imagination and expectations. "NO!" Thethe cracky voice echoingechoed through the blue sky, the. The white cloud isn'tclouds aren't as pure as his heart, yet why was he only get thegetting black charcoal and blood for him to use to write his path futureforward. He doesn't deserve the misery and pain that he felt and had at such a young age. It was too much for 10 years old boya 10-year-old-boy who had witnessed the building in front of him was blasted ininto red fire. The black smoke thickens upon to the sky, his heart startingstarts to sting, and he wishedwishes it was him who died in that building.