Chapter: One

Inspired by the story 'The Tomb of the Fireflies'
-----

Kazumi was at the end of her tether. For days she had been sitting leaning against a house and gasping for breath. She had not eaten anything for a week and two days and had not drunk anything for four days. She just sat crooked against the bare ruined house. Nobody wanted to help her, nobody noticed the little girl, if they did, they only noticed the stench emanating from her. "Eeeih, what's that smelly?", It often came, looked briefly at Kazumi, grimaced and went straight on again. She looked into the void. She was tanned from the sun, she was only wearing a longer shirt that the girl might only have up to her bottom. The four days that Kazumi sat there passed slowly for her at first, then faster and faster. She hardly noticed anything, she just kept hearing muffled voices from passers-by. For four days she had been doing her business in this one place, because she was so weak that she could not run to the nearest bush to empty her bowels. The floor beneath her was colored brown-yellow by the urine and feces she excreted, which is why it smelled like that. Kazumi didn't even try to push the feces away, she just sat there and hung her head. Some people who passed by put a piece of bread or a rice ball in front of her because they felt sorry for the poor girl, but could not take the girl in because most of them were very poor and could barely afford the simplest food. Food was very scarce at this time as an atomic bomb was dropped in Hiroshima, Kazumi's home, just a few months ago. 70,000 to 80,000 people died instantly, the plants that provide the vital nourishment dried up. The girl's brown face was covered in dirt, her long black hair was dirty and full of lice and scales, she herself was emaciated, you could already count her individual ribs. She breathed in and out slowly. Sometimes her fingers twitched when a passerby put food in front of her. Kazumi had no strength to take the food and no one would feed her because the stench around her was unbearable. Before Kazumi knew it, she was already on the floor. She had completely lost track of time, she thought nothing, she just lived there. The day passed like the others, it was evening. "Hey, she won't do it much longer," said a sturdy man to another. Skinny man, poked Kazumi a few times with the stick. "The little one is already dead. She doesn't move at all.", The skinny man stated, "Hey, she's got something in her hands." The firmer man took her last possessions from the girl. "A photo? I don't need that." The man crumpled up the photo and threw it on the grass. Yes, on September 3, 1945 at 7.44 p.m. in front of the ruins of a house, six-year-old Kazumi Koboyashi died. But her story doesn't end here, it begins now.