ABSTRACT
This year marks the 10th year anniversary since I survived a suicide bombing in Israel. Miraculously, I emerged from the wreckage intact, but I want the ghastly memories to fade. Even after a decade, the gruesome scenes remain with me. I can still feel the blast, the power of its vibration was so strong I felt I had been thrown back 50 feet. I can still smell the smoke that spread the stench of explosives and filled my throat so I could barely breathe. I can still hear the young woman lying on the ground, her face covered in blood and crying harder than anyone I’d ever seen.
