FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD KIYOKO opens her eyes and finds herself lying on the floor, gazing up where the ceiling used to be. Sunlight weaves through broken boards and twisted metal, and she has no idea how long she has been unconscious. Her dark blue uniform is torn, and her feet are bare. A heavy beam lies across her body. She is trapped.
Around her, voices cry out — for mothers, fathers, someone to help. Kiyoko has cuts on her forehead and her left elbow, but nothing is broken. She pushes away as much debris as she can. Then, twisting her body back and forth, Kiyoko tries to work her way free of the massive weight on top of her. She wants to help the people who are screaming.
The Backstory: My dad, my neighbor (a 90-year-old Hiroshima survivor) and the atomic bomb
Aug. 6, 1945, had begun as a typical day for