It seems that the older I get, more and more of my precious memories are lost. Although I am only twenty one years old I can't remember many beautiful things about my early childhood years. I also can't recall memories about many of the places I've been to, and some of the people I've know in my life. But one thing I can remember very well is war that took place in my country that which changed my life in the way that not many people have chance to experience. Since that time, I have different way of seeing a world than many of you do.
             Bosnia, August 18, 1995. It's around 9 a clock in the mourning. Another beautiful summer day and sun is already out shining like never did before. It shines that much I can fill how my forehead is burning from his rays. Sky is clear blue, crystal. There is no a single cloud in the sky, except few white tracks that F - 117 made earlier this mourning. The only thing that surprises me were bomb sounds from the city next to mine, I don't hear them anymore. Look like a war is over. Usually they start to fight around seven a clock in the mourning, for past year and so. But wasn't like that anymore. I felt so happy that day, everything is just perfect. Even the trees are so green and happy, looks like they are trying to tell me that through a small wind which shakes them gently.
             I am standing on my balcony, waiting for my mom so we can go grocery shopping. Standing there for quite a while was very enjoyable, which usually doesn't sounds like me (I can't be still in one place for a single second). But there was something missing in whole picture that I enjoy in that moment, just I wasn't sure what that is. Mom come out and asked me if I am ready to go, so we start walking tore a street. After walking for a few minutes she turns her head to a side toward woods that were covering a small river on right side road, and said:" What happened to bi...