An hour. An hour that seemed like an eternity. An hour, during which, as usually would say, life flew before the eyes. But everything has the end. And this series of explosions was cut short by the deafening silence that hung over the city. People began to emerge from their shelters to check the extent of the destruction. In the midst of the destroyed houses, amidst the screams and cries, he saw her. Her appearance symbolized the blood of the innocent spilled on our land. Her light symbolized the soul of our people. Her prayer symbolized the hope burning in our hearts. It was Preya.