Terror in the Uptown Harlem

Terror in the Uptown Harlem

I remained unconscious for the rest of the day. Terrible things had happened which had made me loose the count of seconds, minutes then hours. A bitter pinch in my stomach signaled hunger and that is when I came to the realization that it was midnight, and I had not eaten anything for the last twelve hours. Despite the biting hunger, I still felt no mood for food. Even the finger-liking delicacies would not water my mouth. The room was groomed in a somber mood and everyone around appeared to be dealing with their own psychological traumas. For a second, bitter tears trolled my rather chubby cheeks as a melancholic feeling took the better of me. In a short reverie, everything seemed to be happening once again. The day was starting all over again and the people around me seemed to be scared more than I had just seen them some few minutes ago. Jordan was nowhere to be seen in the room. Lice and her sister Kelly were among the missing faces. Apparently, my mental register seemed to have overlooked Brian Domes who was always quiet in our presence. Silence gripped every dark corner of our room as my memories tried to plunge into another state of quagmire without my intention. These were better forgotten memories, as they served no purpose apart from energizing the rolling of tears.

In the wee hours of that Thursday morning, exactly one week after the end of December and New Year’s Eve festivities, the unthinkable happened. The unthinkable but predictable eventually occurred. The enemies of the America had finally made good their threats. The Uptown Harlem was in a blaze. Explosives were everywhere, tall buildings flattened while numerous lives were exposed to threats of extermination. The response to this tragedy was timely, but the damage was already beyond remedy despite efforts of security forces, fire rescue squads and so many other organizations that had set to salvage as much as possible. I remember waking up few moments after I had just got into bed. I had been studying for the better part of the night and retired to bed just some few minutes after midnight. The sirens spared me no peace as I rushed out of my room to set my eyes outside and witness what all the pandemonium was about. Houses were on flames and more explosions could be heard albeit at a distant. It was a forest of fire as the cries of agony rented the air. I could not help but return to my room knowing well that the escape route was far more closed. No one was sure whether the direction they took was secure. Some bumped onto their sudden deaths while on their escape mission. Others were unable to move not because they had chosen to but simply because it was useless. The jury had already had its day in court.

My room was located uphill just adjacent to Selmer’s restaurant; our popular joint where we always spent the rest of our evenings summing up the schedules of the day. A stone throw away was

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