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When I checked Facebook on April 15th my mouth dropped when I saw that everyone’s status was “Pray for Boston.”

My first thought was, “What happened now?”

There is so much hatred towards the U.S that it’s starting to look like the list of countries that actually like us would be a lot shorter than the list of the ones that hate us.

Fear, panic, and frustration are some of the feelings that I get when I know there are people out there who want to kill because they dislike some of the acts and decisions that United States has done.

One of the attacks that many Americans remember is September 11. It was a day that I will never forget.

The school year just started and I was excited knowing that I was going to be graduating from elementary school. It was a beautiful day and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It seemed like any other school day, but something was off; I just couldn’t guess what it was. Every teacher had the expression of sadness and fear. I could sense that they were hiding something from us. I will never forget the words my fifth grade teacher said when we were lined up at the classroom door waiting for the clock to strike three. “Prepare yourself” was that only thing she said and then she turned around so we wouldn’t see her cry.

When I got off the bus and I saw that my dad was home early from work, I knew something was up. I walked through the front door and saw my parents’ eyes glued to the television and the horrific scene of the World Trade Center collapsing to nothing; I knew everything was going to change from that moment on.

I was in shock. I didn’t know how to take it. I wanted to cry and scream at the people who did this. I never saw anything like it before. I didn’t know what the meaning of terrorism was or what made someone a terrorist. What surprised me the most was I didn’t know that there were people out there who hated the U.S.

I didn’t see things the same anymore. The world became a place that scared me. I was scared to go to New York City or go on a plane. I didn’t like living in fear and I knew that things could never go back to the way they were.

The War on Terror was starting to become something that I was use to when I started college. I didn’t think much of it, until the Boston Marathon Bombing.

When I got home from work on April 15th, I saw my parents doing the same thing that they did about 12 years ago. Their eyes were glued to the television and they didn’t even move a muscle when I walked through the front door.

All the feelings that I got when September 11 occurred came rushing back. The only difference this time was that I was angry. Angry, that for half my life my country has been fighting the War on Terror and had to be on high alert.

I’m older now and not as naïve. I know that the U.S. is not this perfect place and I know that there are a lot of people who don’t like us, but ending an innocent life just to try to prove a point isn’t going to solve anything. The only thing that it does is get more people caught up in the revenge and more deaths of innocent people.

I know that I will never be able to see the world the way I use to twelve years ago and that really is a shame.

Mankind needs to get off the path of hate and killing and start heading towards peace before we put our on species in extinction.

Enough is enough people. STOP!

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