The flames from the fireplace give off a pleasant warmth with an agonizing discomfort as well.  I have not felt like myself since the bomb has been dropped on Hiroshima. I hear your voice in my head all the time telling me, “I love you! I can’t wait until we get married, have lots of kids although you hate them. But when you have them, I promise you will feel as if they were the best thing that has ever happened to you.”  I hear myself saying in a sarcastic voice, “And we will live happily ever after!”
Now, I want my life back. I want my baby back. I want to run to you so you could keep me safe in your arms, but I am dreaming, for you’ve been turned into ashes under the flames. It is cruel I know. I do not want to live because you, the person I shared my dream with is dead. Yes, you are DEAD. You are gone and you will never come back to me, to soothe me when I am crying, when my heart is drowning in sadness. I am so unlucky and all I can say is, “I am hurting, I am brokenhearted.”
The morning the bomb was dropped, we were admiring the beautiful sky and the nice weather and talking about our future. “It is a beautiful day!” I said.
“Not as beautiful as you are.” You replied.
“Oh quit it!” I hit you in the arms while you drank your miso soup, which normally would be served with a bowl of rice, but because of the war, we got little to eat and rice was as scarce as a needle in the middle of an ocean of rocks.
“I did not deserve that Amaya! It was just a compliment, just take the damn compliment.” You said.
“Are you done eating yet?” I said ignoring you.
“Almost. I feel like something is not right today. I am trying hard to humor myself by thinking that everything is going to be okay and that the war will be over soon.” You told me.
“I feel it too. All of my limbs hurt like hell. I wonder why. I don’t feel good either.” I said.
But now I know why you felt like something was wrong. You were going to die soon; a horrible death. Your death was fast approaching and you did not even know it. We stood in the kitchen besides each other staring into space trying to figure out what was wrong. It did not take long for us to realize what was wrong.
We saw a flash coming from the sky and BOOM!!! We were on the ground, knocked unconscious. When I woke up, I found myself under a pile of rubbles without you besides me. I screamed and you said to me in a weak voice, “I am buried and a wall is pushing its weight against my skull. I am going  to die soon if I don’t get out.”
“Hang in there. I’m going to come over and help you.” I pushed myself out under the debris, but I could not move an inch. I took pieces of wall off myself one at a time. After a lot of struggles, I unburied the rest of my body from under our collapsed house. I went to where I heard your voice. I started throwing away the fallen walls that was on top of you. Lastly, I tried and tried to lift the giant wall that was on top of you but with no success. I cried for help but no one came to help us. The people who came nearby looked like burnt meat. I could not even make their face out. All I could ask myself was, “What had had happen?”
“I feel thirsty, can you get me some water please?” You asked.
“Wait a minute.” I ran and ran before I could find you some water. But when I came back, you were burning alive and you screamed like a baby who is hurting but can’t talk to say what’s hurting him. That picture of you trapped under that wall and burning alive while you could smell your own flesh burning remains and will forever linger in my head. You looked at me in the eye and said crying, “"Daisukidesu!" I burst out crying. That’s when you said, “Run!” I shook my head and said, “No, I want to die with you!”
“RUN! RUN! RUN! Don’t make this harder than it already is Amaya. If you really love me, run otherwise you’ll be caught in the flames too.” So to know that dying with you would hurt you, I ran without even looking back.  I ran, ran, and ran as you told me to.
But now, two years after, I can’t sleep at night. Our memories together hunt me like a ghost in a Halloween movie but only it is reality: it is my life. My cancerous blood lets the flame from that day run through me as if it were part of my circulatory system since the day I was born. So, at many occasions, I found myself asking, “Is life worth living if you’re not a part of it?” I have come to the conclusion that I should have stayed with you, die in your arms, instead of dying from leukemia at twenty four years of age, but just before I cross the border I want to say, “Daisukidesu" back.