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It’s not the tropical island people see it as. It’s not just the secluded beaches and the pina coladas. It’s not just a perfect place. It is not beautiful and it certainly isn’t paradise. It is Hawaii. It is where I grew up and it is where my memories lay. It is where I stared at death and all its fear everyday. It is where, the center, of my worst memory, tormenting every waking moment I conceive. It is a place I have learned to hate. It was once like the endless wave of tourists see it, I suppose. It was the palm trees with their bark layered trunks extending far into the heavens and taking your thoughts with them. It was the calming sound of the ocean waves carrying themselves in. And it was the sandy beaches and the vague scent of tanning oil in the air. It was the moist, inviting atmosphere and chatter of inspired visitors. It was the hotel suites and tropical plants and luauas and pools and pineapples and condos and... It was everything. That is, until March 18, 2003. As I got home from school everything was normal. I stepped off the bus and into my yard as usual. I opened my door and went about my daily business. As the rest of the world waited anxiously for Bush’s speech to air live on national TV, perhaps something wasn’t quite right. I wouldn’t know though. I was far too busy worrying about selfish, teenage things that would never matter. As far as war with Iraq went, I had no idea what was in store for me and the rest my country. In fact, I thought nothing of it. “Oh they’ll never hurt me, their bombs can’t reach us. Besides, Bush will make Bagdad a quiet little town and it will all be over. This whole thing is just dumb.” What can I say? I was an ignorant, selfish, arrogant little senior. My Parents definition of a liberal was a bleeding heart. Someone who didn’t want to fight. Someone who used the freedoms they had to protest things like war. Someone who will use the freedoms that conservatives fight for to protest the fighting that was winning their freedoms. Or something like that. I thought I understood, maybe that’s the problem, people thinking too much. Later my mom came home, then Dad. They cooked dinner and we ate dinner. Nothing was different. It was all part of the daily ritual. I finished eating, and as I was often done first, I started telling my parents about my day... “Bush is so stupid! Why do you want to listen to his speech anyway? He says the same thing every time he makes one... Terrorism-Iraq-weapons-disarm-warning-war.” Every time. After my tirade my parents sat tacitly. I, being irritated, and went to bed. Mom and Dad, quite predictably, turned on the TV. I heard it every night. It was right outside my bedroom door. It was as I had expected... The words stood out black on white... “Terrorism-Iraq-weapons-disarm-warning-war,” Bush had made his speech. His speech was as I had expected, only one thing was different, this time he said something else too. He said Saddam Hussein and his two sons had until March 31st to leave the country. That was it, March 31. Peace was at stake, yet still, I had no real worries. Planes flew overhead. There were so many of them. More than I could have counted, or maybe I was in too much of a panic to count them anyway. Bombs were falling from the smokey skies above. It was a savage event, like it was out of a picture. It seemed like it was raining missiles. Every person I knew could be seen running down the street in utter chaos, myself among them. My heart sank...
Approximate Word count = 2561
Approximate Pages = 10.2
(250 words per page double spaced)
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