She awoke to the sounds of confused and pain-stricken sobs. Cold beads of sweat ran across her forehead and she began to consider what had actually happened. She had been on her way home from work, but that was all she recalled. With great effort she managed to sit up, but soon wished she had not. She could feel blood pulsing loudly in her head and ears and immediately felt the need to close her eyes and sleep. Her russet-coloured eyes abruptly filled with concern. Rubbing the back of her neck she hastily contemplated whether her family were safe. To her recollection not one of them was in the area that day, but in this time of urgency she doubted her mentality. She attempted to rise, but was too weak. She was powerless, vulnerable and most disturbingly, unaided.
The discrete package had been left under the South Quay train station. Astonishingly the station itself had not been effected, but that was all that had been spared by the ruthless pressure of the bomb. Many windows had shattered and the limitless edges of the broken glass sharply reflected the sun’s dying gaze. As a result an eerie glimmer rested upon all of the buildings. Some structures, refusing to stay standing, fell during the first shock. The stubborn few that remained, could be heard groaning by the cautious people that scuttled by. Steel-rod foundations had been forced to tear through their walls severing electricity wires and water pipes. Just minutes earlier, these pristine streets had been well kept and spotless. Now they struggled to exist.
Gazing around, Laura observed on the distant pavement a man clambering to his feet. He limped over to his brief case, which lay strewn over the shrapnel speckled pavement. He was tall with unusual white-coloured hair and was constantly supporting his back with his right hand. Unlike Laura, he had no bloody gash, but appeared to be experiencing pain nonetheless. Laura opened her mouth to beckon him over, but disappointingly she sounded nothing more than a croak.
Johnny slowly exhaled as he gathered his scattered papers into a pile. He returned to his feet trying to ignore the internal throbbing that continuously thrust down his spine. Although he assumed there had been a bomb, bewilderment continued to envelop him. What was initially a tingle in his left hand progressed into sharps stabs all over his arm. Glancing at his watch, he felt his stomach revolt as he remembered that he had been due to take his tablets 10 minutes ago. Parkinson’s disease was not a merciful illness and medication deadlines were essential to keep.
Laura gaped up into the sky in disbelief. The sea-blue colour that once inhabited it was now replaced by a polluted grey. She reluctantly became aware of the distasteful flavour present on her tongue. The dust and dirt that the explosion had awakened from its slumber, was now vividly existent within the air. Laura placed her sleeve over her mouth, yet the filth was able to infiltrate it. She assembled a head bandage by tearing the rim of her skirt into a long ragged strand. Aware of the blood she had lost, Laura knew that she had to find some form of medical assistance urgently.
Johnny attempted to open the heavy aluminium door that led to his office. Unable to do so he pivoted round to observe the surroundings. What had been a thriving business community was now reduced to debris. It was hard to comprehend that these buildings had once been modern and intact. Pieces of corroded plastic and metal, lay sprawled over the pathways. The gushing sounds of what seemed like a waterfall rapidly hushed and he was astonished to realise the abnormal silence that impressed upon his ears.
He watched the abandoned street and steadily absorbed the presence of isolation. There were no birds singing and no cars horns beeping. The sound of children laughing was replaced with motionless silence. There were no doors being opened and no steps being taken. A harsh sting in his left arm jolted him from his daze. The nearest store of his medication was in the inaccessible office block and his illness was becoming a serious threat. He began to hobble down the street in search of any potential help.
Laura gazed as the fair-haired man staggered down the road away from her. Again she was lying on the floor, too weak to move. She prayed a desperate prayer that the man would see her, but she could feel unconsciousness looming. The weight on her eyelids became unbearable and she could no longer resist the pressure. As they unwillingly sealed, she listened to the sound of approaching sirens.
The high clatter of metal upon metal drew her from her sleep. The interior of an ambulance van materialized around her and with a sigh of relief she acknowledged that she had been found. She glanced to her left and was glad to recognise the white-haired man. She muttered something but received no response. A dreary paramedic approached his bed and with an overcast expression, drew a black sheet over his head.
Word count: 1160 Angela Stride 11C
