My darling...

You cover your newborn's face with your hands -- shuddering with all of your might. A pain begins to erupt in your chest, but you continue onwards, muffling your baby's cries.

The silence is deafening...

You tear up, ravaged by the guilt growing inside you. You run like this for minutes -- no -- hours on end.

The sun begins to illuminate your surroundings. You feel the ground shake beneath you. Supported by your knees, you glance up into the early morning sky. A convoy of tanks approach. You crouch in fear -- but you cannot hide. One of these machines halts in its tracks. A man gets out -- wearing the military colors of your people. Your eyes rest upon the lifeless body of your babe -- his body now pale and cold.

The mass-slaughter claimed countless lives, but there is still hope on the horizon -- you are one of the few who survived. Will the echoes of that night be remembered

?

Repeated

?

All you can do is hope for a better tomorrow.