Worst day of my life? Despite all the deaths that I have lived through, there is one day that still stands out to me. The day I learned about Hiroshima. The amount cruelty that a human posses, is unimaginable. The hate that is harbored, the morbid thoughts that they act on, I realized that that day. I lost the tiny bit of innocence I still had. I learned that the world was evil, and people were the monsters that children had nightmares about.
    The rest of the day was a blurr. I was so distraught that my mother let me stay home from school. There was just something about it that didn’t make sense. I knew that there were evil people, but nothing compared to this. I felt like my own world had an A-Bomb dropped on it, shattering my sense of reality. 

    The trees whipped by and I flew down the rarely used road on my bike. At the age of 22 I was definitely enjoying the freedom. The wind blew through my hair, pulling ever so lightly at it. The air was crisp and clean. Every other week, for two days I went into town. I would check my P.O box for mail and shower. I had bought myself a room down at the hotel on 3rd street. What I did seemed insane and illogical to the rest of civilization. Showering every other week, didn’t have a phone or a job, and living in the woods, people thought I was a hippy or some nature freak. The truth? I hated the world. People were selfish and unkind. It was sometime in high school that I realized just how much the world was off balance. I didn’t mind the solitude, the peace. It was like humanity had a blindfold on, unsure of where they were going.

    The small blue car honked as I walked my bike across the street. Another example of ignorance. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet this person was so impatient with me. Ignoring him, I continued. It was a small town, hidden away, surrounded by forest. Despite feeling that human interaction was overrated, I was happy. The sun was warm and the birds chirping. My first stop, the post office. The lady and the front desk gave a kind and gentle smile. Returning the favor, I pulled a small metal key out of my pocket. Opening the box, several letters tumbled out. From friends and family, I felt loved. 12 letters total. There were a few upsides of not having a phone, one; no little bleeps to interrupt my thoughts, and two; I was able to keep and cherish every word they sent me. A small chuckle escaped me as I glimpsed my reflection in the window. Hair tied pulled up and out of my face, my clothes were soiled and old looking, my boots covered in mud and God knows what else, a smear ran across my face. I looked so natural, I found it stunning and gorgeous. Although I’m sure that others would say hobo instead. I nodded a thanks to the desk woman whose name I still didn’t know. I grimaced as I seemed to notice the filth caked to my bike.
    “Looks like someone needs a shower.” I said to my bike. After only four months of living among the trees I got in a habit of talking to myself and nearby objects. Even though I loved the solitude, humans thrive on communication. It was something we simply can’t be denied.

    The trip to the hotel was quick. I went straight to my room. It was just as I left it. When I had bought it, I specifically told them to stay out. I took a while to convince them to leave it be, apparently because I live the woods, it means that I am unable of keeping a room clean and unsmelly. A stack of stamps and empty envelopes sat untouched at the table. I tossed the sturdy black bag onto the bed. I went right to the bathroom.

    Every time I showered, I realized how much I missed the feeling of hot water running down my back. Now that was something I missed. The smell of soap was almost overpowering. I often would wade into the lake in the forest, but this was on a whole other level. Clean towels are not something to take for granted, take my word on it. The mirror was fogged. I brushed away the water droplets to see my reflection. I thought of the story of Narcasis. It was something to be remembered. I had been obsessed with greek mythology for years as a child. Everything used to fascinate me, now it was a simple disgust that I felt. My hair was long and messy. It had always been messy. The smear was no longer on my face. I slipping the white towel robe over my freshly cleaned body, I put the actual towel over my shoulders. The unopened letters sat on the table, waiting for me. All from the people I cherished and loved. As I wrote my replies, my stomach growled. It was a low tremor that broke my concentration.  Dialing the number for room service, I turned on the television. “Hello. How can I help you?” a young man asked as the screen lit up with bright colors. A message flashed across the screen as the news came on.
            The beginning of WW3 is now!
It was a clear message, the letters were red and bold. A woman talked in a frantic voice as footage from a devastated bombing was relayed. I couldn’t speak. An intolerable amount of pain and suffering was shown. Nothing left but ash and deadly radiation. I couldn’t speak. The phone dropped from my hand as I fell. It was so slow, and yet the ground came up to catch so fast. The darkness closed in, blurring my vision. I felt like I was screaming, my mouth was open, my lungs gasping for air. Nothing came. A racking pain shot through my head. It seemed so simple. Still, I understood nothing. It was the end, caused the stupidity and hate.