A City Swept from it's Feet Anonymous

Eyes were beginning to blur; muscles were beginning to convulse; thousands were shouting from excitement. Through all these distractions, my mind began to form a clear picture of what was taking place. I was on the final stretch of the 2013 Boston Marathon, running down Boylston Street. I turned to see my entire family at the finish line, cheering me on. The timer ticked as I crossed the finish line. The completion time was three hours and twenty-seven minutes. I then walked to CVS, where I had agreed to meet my family. However, my father had also been running the 117th annual Boston Marathon, and my family continued to wait for him to cross the finish line. Unfortunately, our separation would define the rest of our day.

I heard two loud bangs as I was walking to CVS. I started pushing my way through hundreds of runners to reach CVS, where I met a group of post-marathon runners whom I had befriended. Soon, everyone in CVS heard the blasts. The rumor was that bombs had been gone off in T, Boston's subway. The minutes dragged on until new information came: the bombs had gone off at the marathon's finish line, where my entire family had been. With this newfound information about my family’s safety, my heart rate sped up, almost to...