Karin Saito: A Fictional Narrative

Karin Saito woke early on the 6th of August to prepare for her job. She was recently given the position of a nurse at a local hospital in Hiroshima, Japan; a town she did not grow up in nor was familiar with. The hospital was within a reasonable distance of her home, which made these morning shifts she had to endure somewhat trouble-free.
Hurriedly, Karin slipped on her nurse’s uniform, which was the lightest shade of white possible. She then pedaled her bicycle to the hospital so she could commence her duties. Before entering the hospital, Karin noticed that it was a beautiful day already. A brilliant, cloudless day that was accompanied with an invigorating breeze.
Preceding any assistance with patients, Karin had to clean the doctor’s tools
Everywhere things were collapsed and burning; Karin couldn’t see a single person. The walls of the hospital had given way, toppling to the ground, and she could see into the street. It wasn’t pitch black dark, though the absence of light didn’t fit, considering Karin knew it was still morning time.
Karin looked at herself and took in her appearance; she was astounded. Her, now gray, nurse uniform was badly torn, and where the fabric was torn her skin was burned worse than any other burns she’d ever encountered. Nevertheless, Karin was determined to keep moving in whatever way she could.
Karin didn’t know if her legs could hold her, therefore, she slowly pulled herself along the rubble on her stomach toward the direction of the street. Even the most microscopic of movements hurt as she sluggishly moved herself out of the building. As she got closer to the street Karin could begin to see more people; she almost called out to them until she realized that they were unmoving, dead. They were scattered everywhere among the street, some half-concealed under objects and some laying in the middle of the street. Those that were outside were intensely burned beyond recognition, almost disintegrated; the smell of the bodies was sickening and