On September 11, 2001, Mike woke up with ringing in his ears. He had fallen asleep to the television. He put his glasses on and two burning towers came into focus. Mike got out of bed and yelled to his father. "What's happening!? Jose works there!"
Jose Sanchez was writing an e-mail to his sister in Mexico directly before his skin melted off of his bones by burning jet fuel. His bones were later crushed into dust by four thousand tons of steel and brick. Jose Sanchez was Mike's closest friend.
A few months later, Mike started his own relief fund for the families of the tragedy via a website that he created. He also rented a space in the local city center and set up a makeshift organization promoting peace and the fight against terrorism. It was at the fourth weekly meeting of his organization that Mike met Kay.
Mike was a quiet boy at school and at home. He was slightly overweight and far from attractive. He had trouble interacting with the other boys, and he was too shy to talk to the girls. He met Jose Sanchez on the playground during grade school recess. Jose was on a student exchange program from Mexico. He said he found a dollar by the swings and he would split it with Mike if he wanted to walk with him to the deli after school. They walked to the deli that day after school and they were best friends ever since.
Kay was the most beautiful girl that Mike had ever seen. He thought that she wouldn't even want to talk to him, let alone fall in love with him, but that's exactly what she did. They would get coffee after the meetings and Kay would tell Mike how beautiful his heart was and Mike would tell Kay that he saw heaven in her eyes.
They would spend the next few years together and would get engaged while lying in the back of Mike's pickup truck looking up at the stars.
On March 19, 2003, Mike sat up in his bed and listened. He thought he had heard thunder, which would have been odd. "It never rains here," He thought to himself. He realized that it wasn't thunder when six thousand shards of glass sailed into his bedroom, embedding themselves into his face and arms. The glass came from the windows, and the windows broke because of the bombs that were being dropped from the sky. They were under attack.
Mike pressed a towel to his bleeding face as he dialed Kay's number. He would get her voicemail seventy-three times that night before he finally passed out on his bathroom floor in a pool of his own blood.
Mike would later learn that Kay's body had been ripped to shreds by an errant Tomahawk missile dropped on the street in Mike's city and home, Baghdad, Iraq.
On June 14, 2006, Mike stepped off a bus in Los Angeles and began walking toward the convention center where a hundred thousand Americans were gathered. Mike held his coat close to his body to conceal the twenty pounds of TNT that was strapped to his chest. He prayed to Allah, and then stepped inside.
A world of preemptive strikes is a world of perpetual war.
Vote for peace.
Jose Sanchez was writing an e-mail to his sister in Mexico directly before his skin melted off of his bones by burning jet fuel. His bones were later crushed into dust by four thousand tons of steel and brick. Jose Sanchez was Mike's closest friend.
A few months later, Mike started his own relief fund for the families of the tragedy via a website that he created. He also rented a space in the local city center and set up a makeshift organization promoting peace and the fight against terrorism. It was at the fourth weekly meeting of his organization that Mike met Kay.
Mike was a quiet boy at school and at home. He was slightly overweight and far from attractive. He had trouble interacting with the other boys, and he was too shy to talk to the girls. He met Jose Sanchez on the playground during grade school recess. Jose was on a student exchange program from Mexico. He said he found a dollar by the swings and he would split it with Mike if he wanted to walk with him to the deli after school. They walked to the deli that day after school and they were best friends ever since.
Kay was the most beautiful girl that Mike had ever seen. He thought that she wouldn't even want to talk to him, let alone fall in love with him, but that's exactly what she did. They would get coffee after the meetings and Kay would tell Mike how beautiful his heart was and Mike would tell Kay that he saw heaven in her eyes.
They would spend the next few years together and would get engaged while lying in the back of Mike's pickup truck looking up at the stars.
On March 19, 2003, Mike sat up in his bed and listened. He thought he had heard thunder, which would have been odd. "It never rains here," He thought to himself. He realized that it wasn't thunder when six thousand shards of glass sailed into his bedroom, embedding themselves into his face and arms. The glass came from the windows, and the windows broke because of the bombs that were being dropped from the sky. They were under attack.
Mike pressed a towel to his bleeding face as he dialed Kay's number. He would get her voicemail seventy-three times that night before he finally passed out on his bathroom floor in a pool of his own blood.
Mike would later learn that Kay's body had been ripped to shreds by an errant Tomahawk missile dropped on the street in Mike's city and home, Baghdad, Iraq.
On June 14, 2006, Mike stepped off a bus in Los Angeles and began walking toward the convention center where a hundred thousand Americans were gathered. Mike held his coat close to his body to conceal the twenty pounds of TNT that was strapped to his chest. He prayed to Allah, and then stepped inside.
A world of preemptive strikes is a world of perpetual war.
Vote for peace.
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