Many people were killed that day seven years ago. No one would have died in hopes. I should have wanted to live more and more somehow. That’s why I made an effort to live until the very end. However, when I learned that it wouldn’t come true, I think I died in prayer for the safety of my family. Also, the bereaved family would have wanted to say a word at the end. However, that wish did not come true and I left alone.
Why should a pregnant woman who is seriously pregnant have to be sacrificed? Why should a newborn baby be taken from the mother’s hands? Why do two people who are about to get married have to be swallowed by the waves? Why should a child carrying a school bag and looking forward to the entrance ceremony be sacrificed? Why should a person who has just built a new house and handed over the keys be sacrificed? Each person was at the height of happiness, but that happiness was taken away in an instant.
That day, the town was destroyed. Many bodies were lined up in the temporary detention center. It was a cold year and the flowers in the alley hadn’t bloomed yet. The bodies wrapped in blue sheets at the detention center were just lined up without any memorial service. About two weeks later, short-length daffodils, which seemed to shrink in the cold, began to bloom in the garden. A few daffodils and pussy willows were put in a cup and her wife put them in a camp. When 311 comes, I remember that day with daffodil flowers and tears.