Hiroshima ~by Claire A.

The summer of 1945 changed my life forever. Nagasaki had supposedly been bombed yesterday, but I didn't believe that. Rumors were flying throughout Japan in 1945. The war was coming closer to our shores. My sister, father, mother, who was large with child, and I ran through the streets of Hiroshima heading toward the shelter. As we ran, my mother began to slow. Then she stopped, letting out a blood curdling scream. The baby was on its way.

We were separated from Momma, and she was transported to the hospital. Days went by really slowly in Hiroshima, as we waiting, hoping that no bombs would come. However, the days started going by really fast with my mother in the hospital and my family in jeopardy. It was strange living without my mother. Every night my father went outside the air raid shelter; he said, "I'm just going out for a smoke." I would ask if I can go outside with him, but he said no. I was sick of sleeping on the concrete, being trapped inside a metal building, and breathing in "people fumes."

One night I decided to go outside with my father, to see what he was really up to. I didn't want him to know, so I stayed in the doorway. I saw my father go around the corner; I followed. Papa reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and stood in front of a telephone booth. The phone started ringing. I was surprised; it seemed Papa was waiting for the call. Papa held the receiver up to his ear and said some words in a language I did not know. Confused, I went back inside. With a twisted look on my face, I shuffled over to the sleeping mat and plopped to the floor. I called my sister over, "Sazukia? Sazukia?" She came running over. I repeated the words I had heard Papa say into the phone. She had been studying English, and I wondered if that was the language he was speaking. I asked her to translate. She gave me a puzzled look, and then translated those cursed words.

Two days went by. Father still went outside for those calls. On August sixth he went outside for a final call. Suzukia and I followed. It was the same routine I had seen before: he went outside, the phone would ring, he would answer and say words I had never heard before. Sazukia's eyes widened, and she couldn't speak until I shook her out of the trance. "What did he say?" a worried tremor in my voice.
"Well," Sazukia said hesitantly, "Um he said..."
"Spit it out!" I said, getting impatient.
"He said...um...that the conditions are perfect for a bomb drop."
"He wouldn't say that! Who would he be talking to? How does he know about bombs?" The conversation went on for about thirty minutes, back and forth, back and forth as we tried to figure out our father.

Then we got the news we had a new sister. My heart was filled with emotion; it was almost overwhelming. We were going to the hospital to meet our sister. It was the first time I had actually gone outside in three weeks. My father told our escorts that he had to go to the lavatory, and he disappeared around the corner. I followed him as he snuck back to the phone booth. Right then and there I realized my father was our enemy, not our hero. He picked up the phone and placed a call. As soon as the person on the other end picked up, Papa whispered, "Now." When he said that word, an enemy fighter plane appeared in the sky. I could read the words ENOLA GAY painted on the sides. Under the plane, a white sphere kept my eye, holding it like a lion clutching a baby gazelle.

"Inside, now!" our escorts yelled.
"But my mommy's out there," I screeched hitting our escorts as they dragged me through the door. I desperately wanted to get to the hospital. The door was slammed behind me, and my father followed us inside and glared at me, an evil glint in his eye. This look I did not understand, and it was a look I didn't like.

Within seconds, everyone ran to the windows to see what the commotion was about. I ran too; I saw then the bomb drop from the belly of the plane. It fell from the sky and everyone ran away from the windows except me. My mother was out there and I wanted her back. Then, blue rays of light shone in through the windows and hit many people. I fell to the floor as the building was lifted intact and moved by the blast. A grueling ten minutes went by and the building moaned and groaned, then collapsed. It felt like the weight of the whole building was on my back as I lay face down in the broken concrete. "Help!" was the only thing I heard, and it rang in my ears. It rang endlessly, "Help, help, help."
After the smoke cleared, I saw nothing. Well actually a dry trench surrounded by scorched,crumbling buildings. The destruction was horrifying. The once beautiful park was now filled with shards of broken glass and ash.

We had struggled through the day, running from the fires. We made it to an elementary school that would serve as our shelter that night. When I woke up the next morning, I remembered that my baby sister was born yesterday. August 6th, her birthday, was the worst day of my life. I called for Sazukia, but my sister didn't answer. I clambered to my feet, ignoring the nurses who told me to stay put. I walked around regardless of my bleeding feet, and mangled skin. I called and called for my sister, over and over again. I called for my mother, and I even called for my father, even though he was a traitor. After all he might have been the only part of my family left. There was no reply. The deep gashes on my face oozed blood that ran into my eyes; it stung and I cried bloody tears. I called one more time before giving up, and that is when I heard my mother's voice. It was as thin as a spider's web. I started to run toward the voice, but I was stopped by the police.

"Excuse me, I just wanted to ask you some questions."
"Yes," I replied, nervous to find out what they wanted to know.
They asked me many questions, simple at first, but they got harder and harder, and finally they asked me the question I had been dreading. "Do you know anyone connected to the bombing?"
I swallowed hard then burst into tears, "Yes, yes I think know someone. My father has been making calls to someone...about a plane? He...he..."
"Show us your father," the guard said.
"I...I...don't know were he is," I stammered. The police led me to a nurse.
"Mam," a nurse turned around. "We would like to know where," they turned to me, "what is your father's name?"
"Kentaro Chan," I said, trembling.
Then they turned back to face the nurse, "Where is Kentaro Chan?"
The nurse turned back to the half burnt notebook and started flipping through the pages. When she found my father's name, she motioned for us to follow; we did. We reached the location of my father. He sat up, a dazed look on his face. "Is this him?" they asked me.
"Yes," I answered, swallowing my tears.
"Kentaro Chan, you are under arrest by order of the Japanese Guard!"
My father looked stunned, but I could tell he was fibbing. "What did I do?" my father asked trying to look innocent.
"You killed many people. You killed my friends; you killed Sazukia," I screamed.
He snorted. "Why would I do that?" he asked, getting agitated.
"Just come with us," the guards huffed, suspicious of his response. They hoisted my father to his feet, and then something I could never have dreamed of happened.
He pulled a gun on the guards. "Let me go and no one will get hurt," he growled. Father whipped around and steadied the barrel right in between my eyes. The guards stepped forward.
"Don't move," my father hissed.

Bang!

My father was suddenly cross-eyed, and he fell to the ground; the blood from the body I used to love dripped from his mouth.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't let another life be taken," the guard whispered solemnly.
I nodded. I was numb. I'd just watched my father die. I hobbled around searching faces for one I knew; then I saw her. She was the most gorgeous baby I had ever seen; I continued to stare then I tripped. I looked down to see what I had tripped over. It was my mom, a baby girl cradled in her arms.
"Mommy, you're alive! I missed you!" I exclaimed tears pouring from my eyes. I latched onto her in a grasp no one could break. I began to sob and tell the tales of the last few weeks.

Eight years later.......

" Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Maskia, Happy Birthday to you!" On this day I turned seventeen, who knew it would be such a horrible day. I walked outside to breath in fresh air and realized in two days it would be my sister Chizuko's birthday and the eighth aniversary of the bombing. Then I realized I had something to do. My sister's grade at school was having a track meet and Chizuko was chosen to represent the bamboo class. I started to make my way over to the dirt track. When I got there, Chizuko saw me and her smile widened. She trotted over to me. "Hey, Maskia," she chirped.
"Hey, are you exited." I asked
"Yes, I am even kinda dizzy," she added.
"Good," I chimed, "I'm going to the bleachers now, Good luck!"
"Thank you," she said gratefully and scampered over to the starting line.
I sat down and then I saw her, it was the girl from the bombing. I could tell it was her from her gorgeous smile. "Hi there." she chimed. Her voice sounded like the angels above were singing.
"Hi," I said nervously. "What's your name? I hope it's as pretty as your face."
She giggled. "My name is Latika."
"Ooh it is pretty," I said shyly. Then I sat down, and she sat next to me.
"Gooooooooooo!" screamed the announcer. The runners were off, including my sister. She was breezing past people. Then it happened, her eyes shut and she fell to the ground. The crowd held their breath as help rushed onto the track. Her teacher picked her limp body up off the field. I stood up, so did Latika. We rushed over to the teacher who was lifting her body into an ambulance. His eyes were closed, and he was shaking his head, not again.
My mother met us at the hospital. We waited awhile until the doctor called us in. "Ms. Chan, I'm afraid your daughter has the A- bomb disease."
My mother dropped to the floor crying, I knelt with her. We cried until the tears ran out. Then we went to comfort Chizuko.

"Honey," my mom said, "you have leukemia."
Chizuko started to cry. "I'm going to die," she whispered through tears. We all were silent, the once cheerful Chizuko was thinking about death.None of us spoke for a very long time. The silence was deafening.
Then the doctor came in. He was very tall and slim. "Miss?" the doctor addressed my mother. "I'm very sorry. Your daughter is very sick. She has only a few days to live."
I felt like the world would come to an end when this little soul went to the land behind the stars. We waited by Chizuko's side late into the night. We watched her sleep. She twitched uncontrollably. It was painful to watch. As she slept, I folded cranes. Legend says that when one thousand paper cranes are folded, they will heal. I had made three- hundred cranes by the time Chizuko opened her eyes.
"The cranes." She said in a trance. " They are gorgeous."
" Thank You." I said grateful she could see them. Her jaw dropped in surprise and she started to hack and wheeze. She started to look pale faced. I jumped into the chair and started folding cranes. My mother screamed and the nurses came rushing in. They put medicine into her IV and she fell asleep. That was the last time I saw Chizuko's eyes. The doctor asked us to leave so they could check her heart. We watched them start to rush around. They brought in the Defibrillator. Hooked it up to her lifeless body and shocked her. She didn't move, she was gone. To the land behind the stars. My little sister Chizuko passed away on her ninth birthday. I still think about her often. I am now sixty-three and have a wife and three children. I wish that my sister was able to be here and see the many beauties of life.