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Silence
There is silence... A deafening silence. The kind of silence in an exam room or the silence after a gunshot. A silence that creeps in and chills you from the bone; eats away at your soul. There is silence.
My ears ring, a dull drone. Cautiously, I lift my head, I'm covered in soot with smoke scratching at my throat. Everything and everyone is still and lifeless. Bodies scattered across the blood-soaked carpet. Rows upon rows of dead youth. Then there is a movement. A twitch of a muscle. Evidence someone is alive. Evidence I'm not alone. I swivel around, my heart pumping viciously at my chest, as though the speed is gonna help.
I see her, lying there on her side. Eyes closed but chest rising, she lets out a weak moan. Golden locks drowned in soot envelope her head. Yet another twitch and her eyes dart open. Green eyes filled with fear, pain and tears. Slowly I shift towards her, taking her icy hand in my own, I murmur something like "It's ok, everything's ok"
Ironically, nothing is ok. If you, being a teen, are stuck in a burning building after gunfire and an explosion, you aren't normally ok. But this is a different “ok.” It is on “ok” that means we have survived. Of course there is no absolute guarantee that we are gonna survive any longer. But for now we are alive and that is all that really matters.
It makes me think sometimes how as people we tend to complain about the struggles and difficulties of life, maybe even consider ending it, yet when faced with death our body runs. We fear and attempt to flee death in a moment of panic even though moments before we may have been considering intentionally running into its arms. I guess it is those moments that we learn to truly treasure life and not take it for granted.
And suddenly I snap back into reality. My heart yet again on a race. Her eyes close and I shake her gently. It strikes me others may be alive too.
“We need to get out, now!" I manage to croak out. By now the smoke is making me drowsy. I make a failed attempt to clear my mind and haul myself on my knees. Then I shake her again " Can you get up?" She blinks but stays very still. Gently, I grip her shoulders and attempt to help her up; in turn, she gives a weak moan, her eyes roll and she goes limp in my arms. To my horror I see crimson seeping from her side forming a warm pool on the floor.
"Please!" I plead, "You can't die!" There is no answer, just the echo of sirens... Stained with her blood and my tears, I rock her back and forth as if rocking a newborn to sleep. I don't know how long. I don't care. Blurred sounds and voices pass me by. I don't care. I refuse to care. I pair of claws grab me and yank me away from her. I struggle but it ends abruptly as something cold and sharp jabs into my arm. All pain and terror stops at once. I let everything go. There is silence...
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My ears ring, a dull drone. Cautiously, I lift my head, I'm covered in soot with smoke scratching at my throat. Everything and everyone is still and lifeless. Bodies scattered across the blood-soaked carpet. Rows upon rows of dead youth. Then there is a movement. A twitch of a muscle. Evidence someone is alive. Evidence I'm not alone. I swivel around, my heart pumping viciously at my chest, as though the speed is gonna help.
I see her, lying there on her side. Eyes closed but chest rising, she lets out a weak moan. Golden locks drowned in soot envelope her head. Yet another twitch and her eyes dart open. Green eyes filled with fear, pain and tears. Slowly I shift towards her, taking her icy hand in my own, I murmur something like "It's ok, everything's ok"
Ironically, nothing is ok. If you, being a teen, are stuck in a burning building after gunfire and an explosion, you aren't normally ok. But this is a different “ok.” It is on “ok” that means we have survived. Of course there is no absolute guarantee that we are gonna survive any longer. But for now we are alive and that is all that really matters.
It makes me think sometimes how as people we tend to complain about the struggles and difficulties of life, maybe even consider ending it, yet when faced with death our body runs. We fear and attempt to flee death in a moment of panic even though moments before we may have been considering intentionally running into its arms. I guess it is those moments that we learn to truly treasure life and not take it for granted.
And suddenly I snap back into reality. My heart yet again on a race. Her eyes close and I shake her gently. It strikes me others may be alive too.
“We need to get out, now!" I manage to croak out. By now the smoke is making me drowsy. I make a failed attempt to clear my mind and haul myself on my knees. Then I shake her again " Can you get up?" She blinks but stays very still. Gently, I grip her shoulders and attempt to help her up; in turn, she gives a weak moan, her eyes roll and she goes limp in my arms. To my horror I see crimson seeping from her side forming a warm pool on the floor.
"Please!" I plead, "You can't die!" There is no answer, just the echo of sirens... Stained with her blood and my tears, I rock her back and forth as if rocking a newborn to sleep. I don't know how long. I don't care. Blurred sounds and voices pass me by. I don't care. I refuse to care. I pair of claws grab me and yank me away from her. I struggle but it ends abruptly as something cold and sharp jabs into my arm. All pain and terror stops at once. I let everything go. There is silence...
© All Rights Reserved
