Screams of blood
644 Words
I was two years old when I could remember holding on to my mothers hand and just standing on this big red bus looking out it’s window. You see the buses in Nicaragua were always packed and filled with people traveling near and far. You could smell the campesinos or farm workers in English who would travel to and from work. As you could hear babies crying and mothers yelling at their kids to sit down to comportarse meaning behave and then there’s those who could sleep through it all. Not my mother, she was standing and I remember her just holding my hand and looking peaceful but I could tell she was ready to reach our destination and just get home and be grateful to be back home again. That feeling of sigh and relief when you could just sit and unwind. But knowing my mother she’d make it home and start cleaning and cooking for my mother was a hard worker and after work she’d still get home and clean and cook and yell at us to pick up our clothes and shoes. For you see this was when we lived in Hayward California but I’ll get that point soon in my book.
All I heard was a loud bang crash and just screams and howls of people just screaming for dear life. As I turned my head and looked to my left and on the narrow road we were traveling with the edge so close to damnation you could see the bus turned over and do n in a large pit so huge and scary deep. As black smoke and fire filled the air I could see blood, the blood of the people trying to escape the flames and ripped up body parts with some digging in the the dirt and trying to climb to the top of the edge and onto the road. I could see tears and torn people just screaming for help and the fire consuming the bus and those who couldn’t make it out. It sounded like the noise of a pig when it’s being bled out and you take the knife from one end of its throat to the other and the squeelsthat came out so horrific we’re not of pigs but of real people with bloodshed and tears and as I kept looking you could see lifeless bodies just dead with no movement.
I told my parents that I remembered this as a kid and they were both in shock that I still remembered this as she told me that we were coming back from Managua which is the Capitol of Nicaragua. And that evening we conversed about it a bit more but as we filled our glasses with beer at The Round Table Restaurant in Hayward everything just went in and sunk in deep as I remembered that horrible day in my terrible twos. Terrible it was for I could remember two incidents as a two year old that were embedded in my head and I could recall and tell you it as if I were 13 and it just happened yesterday. This was something out of a movie I can now say but this wasn’t a movie it was my life and that of those people who never made it out and back home that day. May God bless their souls and although it’s been years I have it in me and I feel the pain of those family members who never got to see their loved ones come home that day. May their souls and their families rest and be in peace now for it happened many moons ago but that horrific picture and sounds still play in my mind anytime I talk or remember it.
- Writer
