Status Updates From Witness to the Hellfire of ...

When the author was collecting stories, he encountered the same thing I think about when I ask people to read books~~~

"Young man, if the blood of those I love has not aroused the sympathy of the world yet, do you think that your words will?"

I shook my head, certain that he was right. I repeated to myself: If a year and seven months of bloodshed hadn't moved anyone. . . will ink on paper.

"...we don't matter, we have no value in this unjust world. If the world saw us as human beings, our extermination would have stopped long ago. But even with all of this, I will continue writing. I'll keep writing until I find something to escape my nightmares. To escape the missile that chases me in my sleep. To escape the ghosts of my lived ones. . . whom the monsters have annihilated."

I don't need your sympathy. I need a conscience that hasn't rotted. A human who hasn't turned to stone.
I need a reader who won't just close the book and sigh, Then go sip their coffee. ...

Read this not as a novel. But as you would read a gravestone. As if a voice from beneath the ground was saying: "I was here. And I could have lived---If only you had said something."