My dry, swollen lids flicker open a gust of sulfur and ash dries my tongue clogs my narrow throat with chalk. The concrete under my ribs is warm still vibrating from the detonation wet with gasoline or oil or...my blood? My hand reaches to brace myself I collapse gasping as the pain ignites my flesh, and all I can see is meat, a mangled sinewy stump where an elbow my book-carrying elbow, had been. Black smoke belches and plumes the street that was pregnant with screaming now still as a newborn birthed dead. Sirens shriek, television crews scuttle in hopes of burning our blood into film, but my skull falls back, eyes roll, lashes fall, and as my skin drains of heat and fluid, I realize all I wanted was to go to school today. That's all I wanted.