The first thing I remember was the shaking.
Everything in the apartment was shaking. The pictures on the wall started to fall, the glasses in the kitchen began to rattle, and my bed slowly started inching across the floor of my bedroom. I could hear the shouts from the apartments below and above us.
Soon, my dad barged into my room, “Esperanza! Esperanza, wake up!”
“Papa, what’s happening?” I had to scream over the sound of everything shattering and shaking.
“Just follow me. We have to take shelter in the basement. Come on!” My dad grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed. We rushed out of our apartment and into the hall, not caring enough to close the door behind us. It was pure chaos – the hall was crowded with crying children, women and men were yelling in confusion and panic, nobody knew what was happening, and we were all just running from our doors and down the stairs.
A man yelled at the top of the flight, “Everybody to the basement! Now! We must go immediately!”
Seconds later, the window panes shattered, vicious heat and wind bursting through. The floor and walls shook so hard that everyone fell, like little plastic toys. None of us had time to scream. That is when everything went black.
October 12th, 1944, was the day Germany dropped the atomic bomb on New York City.
“The City of Fire,” they called it.
Everyone in the world was watching the city of New York. You could hear the cries of ambulances and fire trucks, most of which had to be brought in from surrounding states. Millions had been evaporated or crushed by the fallen skyscrapers. The people of New York were hundreds of feet deep in ruins. The unfortunate ones who had survived lost everything. Millions of people were either unconscious or sleeping on rubble next to the dead. The first responders didn’t know how to start.
My name is Esperanza Gonzalez, and I am eleven years old. Ever since age three, I have lived in Long Island City with my papa. For the past eight years of my life I have looked across the East River and seen the beautiful Manhattan skyline. Now, I cannot say so. Instead of busy streets and endless skyscrapers, all I see is fire, death, and miles of irrevocable destruction.
It was a little short of midway when I woke up. I could not even recognize where I was: the ceiling had collapsed, walls were crumbling, the entire building smelt like blood, and the only source of light, besides the heavily clouded sky, were small fires here and there. I could not distinguish between the living and the dead.
I looked beside me and saw my papa, his temple stained red, his face painted with dirt and dust.
“Papá,” I whispered, shaking him awake. “Papá, wake up.”
He slowly opened his eyes, which quickly widened. “Mi estrella, estás bien?”
“Sí, papá, sí,” I hugged him, as tightly as I could.
Soon, we got up and slowly descended the stairs, maneuvering our feet through the rubble. Finally, we stepped through the threshold of the apartment building. We are no longer in New York City, I thought. We were in a world straight from a movie, or a comic book. It did not feel like day: the sky was full of fire, smoke, and dust. Across the gray river was not Manhattan, but a junkyard. Skyscrapers were piled on top of each other like fallen dominos. The streets were full of people weeping, their loved ones in their arms. People were desperately searching through the rubble. There was not a single first responder in sight.
I thought, America will never be the same after today. Today is the day the people of the world will remember forever.
After my mother passed, my papa and I came to America. We left everything behind, yet there was nothing left for us in Mexico. We came to New York City hoping for something they call “the American Dream.” We were looking for a new life full of success, education, happiness, and freedom; nothing like our old life back in Mexico. “The best country in the world,” they told us. We came to the United States of America, the land of the people who always win. But today, we did not win. Germany won. Where is that “American dream” now? I wonder. Nobody knows what the future will hold, but I know it is not good. For the first time in history, America will fall. And we might not get up.
