It was a hot August afternoon, I lay down in bed for a nap, in that liminal space between sleep and awake, I was jolted by a brutal sound, I thought I was in some sort of dream. I walk to the balcony to find a huge pink cloud in the sky, my first thought was: “What a surreal sunset!”, I grab my camera and take a picture, only to realize that I wasn’t dreaming and the pink wasn’t sunlight… then it began the alarms, screams, and shattered glass . I look down at the street and it was carpeted with glass dust, blood, and people running in all the directions… WHAT HAPPENED? ! It took me a few days and rivers of tears to wake up from my stunned state and accept that it was all very real. It wasn’t a nightmare, reality itself had become a nightmare. After the 4th of August explosion, the city I grew up in was transformed into a wasteland and we had become hostages of our abusers, victims of an unresolved crime.
Everything was taken away from us that day.
Everyday since, I have wished it was just a pink cloud in the sky … #thisisnotapinkcloud
It became extremely hard to live here, but it’s never easy to say goodbye, even though it’s sad to see most of us leaving, we have no more tears left to cry ... #goodbye
