I woke up. My head hurt so much and I didn't know where I was. Dad lay next to me, hidden under an endless pile of rubble. His usually radiant complexion was grayish, caked in dust and debris. I asked him to help me. I told him I was hurt with a flood of tears but he didn't move. I shook it; begging him to listen to me. To console me. I needed him to listen to me! But nothing happened. All my attempts were in vain, his expression remained clouded. Pain crossed his face. Maybe he was still sleeping? –'Be real Nina,' I thought. How could I be so naive as to think he was still sleeping; in the midst of so much destruction and desolation? I could hear screams of a macabre quality, a terrible symphony of pain, every note dripping with sadness. A bitter song full of anger that every now and then faded. It was the official announcement that someone, somewhere beneath the roar, was no longer separated from the cacophony of the screams. That they were dead. As the hours passed the screams became fainter and fainter until the only scream I could hear was my own. I had never felt so alone in my thirteen years of life. Death is a difficult thing to handle for those on the outside. The loss of a family member or friend is unbearable. Being constantly tormented by the reminder that you will never see them again, that you will never enjoy their laughter, or that you will never do anything to make them smile is too much to handle. Some people take it better than others. - God knows I wasn't taking it well. I would give anything just to see my father smile at me or even frown. Anything to get some remnant of life back in him. He taught me so much; he was the one who told me that "nothing good ever came from giving up" every time I was on the verge of... a piece of paper... a stake of Oden stuck in my throat. It slowly eats away at me, taking over my body, stealing my thoughts until I can think of nothing else. I couldn't ignore it. Tears flowed freely from my eyes as I carefully lifted my father's frozen arm to free my shorts from his steely grip. I quickly tore open the package, stuffing large pieces of bread into my mouth. It was delicious, so soft and warm against my tongue; the flavor explodes sparkling in my taste buds. It was soft, rich Egyptian velvet. For that brief moment I was unaware of all the destruction around me. My lips parted, folding upwards exposing my perfectly white teeth. My happiness was short-lived. The sweet aroma of bread did not belong here and was soon replaced. Over the next few days, the foul-smelling stench of rotting flesh took over, enveloping the air and taking the breath out of my lungs...