When I was on my way to UCM (University of Central Missouri – my current college), I heard people discussing about someone had been shot ‘till died in a church. After that, just a few days form today, one UCM student was attacked and was stolen his money and room key on Pine Street. And yesterday, a guy in frond of me was saying something about another murder…
People are so easy to be killed. And so am I. When will it be my “turn”? I was on that Pine Street at that night, also. If it hadn’t been someone else, it’d have been me properly – means I’d be died by now. Imaging that a blade, or a bullet, was stabbed at me in my back. A few minutes later I’d die. I wonder what would I do in those few minutes?
I’d cry, for sure.
I’d cry for my family. I wouldn’t know what they’d feel when they have known about this. I’d cry that I’d have made them cry, pushed them to the infinite disappointment. It was me that they had poured unhesitatingly their love, perspirations, and hope. It was me that being killed – before I could be a successful businessman as I was supposed. Couldn’t do anything but murmuring: “I’m so sorry!”
I’d cry for other people who love me – thought there’re not many of them. I’d cry that I couldn’t keep my promise to “return”. Though they are in Vietnam or Montana, they’d never receive my love, my caring any more. Sorry my host family. Sorry Dark Force. Sorry PNS. I’d be so sorry.
And I’d cry for Orchid. I’d never be able to let her know how much I love her, how painful to be away from her. She’d never know. Never.
I am still here. I am living, I am alive. I am a survivor.
Our Holy Father,
I thank you to let me live for today.
Please protect me, that I may survive tomorrow.
O Lord, in Your name, I pray. Amen.
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