Darkness. It always finds its way into even the brightest of places. The City of Lights was the brightest place I had ever been to. The streets glimmered with promise as I gazed out of my hotel window. The sun, warm, beamed down on my face. This was it. My first day in Paris began with a stroll down Quai Branly, and colorful macaroons and pastry shops filled the strip. Baguettes warm and fresh were sold for a couple of Euros. Couples around me held hands in blissful peace as they, too, strolled through this magical city. Everyone around me seemed to be entranced with the promise the city had to offer. When I arrived at the structure I had spent my life dreaming about, it was more than I imagined. The large tower loomed over me reminding me how big the world was. As the night crept over me, the Eiffel Tower lights illuminated the park. A chill caught the air and left me feeling uneasy. I was exhausted after the adventurous day and headed back to my hotel. I was so comfortable, unable to dream, for the day had been a dream itself. Soon I drifted off and was encroached by darkness….and then…
My phone buzzed persistently from the dresser I had placed it on. Dizzy and stumbling in the black, I found my way to it. I waited impatiently as my eyes adjusted to the words on the screen, hoping to silence these disturbances, but instead they silenced me. Blood rushed to my head, my heart pounded frantically, and I began to tremor. Paralyzed in fear, I read frantic message after message asking if I was safe, if I was alive, demanding me to hide. Paris was under attack. I shouted to my sleeping roommate, my body taking over, my head still spinning. Instantly, I placed the scarf I had worn blissfully earlier that day in the crack at the bottom of the door. I shut all the curtains and pressed power on the remote, instantly muting it. We watched. Crying, trembling, horrified, we watched. We listened, siren after siren, bang after bang. We waited, my fingers moving one hundred miles a minute thanking my mother for the wonderful life she had given me. We waited for them to come into our hotel. We waited for our turn to die. We waited in darkness.
We were silent that night. The whole city was silent. Silent for those who had lost their lives. Silent for the fear that another attack was just around the corner. The streets were quiet and bare; only a few military men dared to be seen. It was the last place I wanted to be on earth. I saw the great tower as I had before, but this time, it stood hollow, and it did not seem magical. It stood there and reminded us of the pain we tried to forget, haunting us with its darkness.
The world, like Paris that day, is filled with so many tragedies. There are wars, hate crimes, shootings, brutalities, plane crashes, terrorism, poverty, disparities, and the list never seems to stop. With all these evils in the world we live in we have to be the light. We have to be the colorful macaroons and pastry shops, and we have to be the couples holding hands. We need to show the compassion and love we have, because that is the only way we can combat all these terrors. As blissful as I was in those first moment in Paris, that is the way I hope everyone can live each day. We can not let the tragedies win. We have to be the light in the world, because if we do not, all there will ever be is darkness.
