Brussels, March, 2016.

I seldom heard about holidays to Belgium, aside from friends visiting relatives, it wasn’t a familiar destination, nonetheless, it was a country I was yet to visit. I wasn’t foreign to travelling alone, but being accompanied by one of my best friends was comforting, even though it felt as though we were drifting apart, maybe that’s why we decided to go on this holiday, that, and taking advantage of very cheap flights. Why were flights so cheap? The news had reported terrorist attacks.

We filled ourselves with sweet and savoury waffles, and chocolate, attempted ice-skating, and our nationality was questioned, curiosity heightening with the addition of milk to our tea. It was the end of our two-night stay, short, but sufficient. We made our way to the metro station, then shortly after to the airport. I felt somewhat underwhelmed, I was ready to go home, we both were. 

As I scrolled through my phone, a news report made its way onto my screen, there had been another bombing, to our knowledge none had occurred whilst we were there, however, headlines informed the occurrence happening a day after we left, I was stunned and saddened to say the least, but more so following hearing of it’s location, where did the bomb go off? In the same metro station we were standing in a day earlier.