train
Genre: historical fiction
Rated: R (imagery)
Started: 07.12.2005
Ended: 07.12.2005
Author's Note: This piece is written in loving memory of London, the city I love. When I heard about this incident, my father was in Europe at the time and I thought that he might have gone back to England at the time (he's originally from there). However, our trip there a year ago made me connect with the city and the people there. So, I was deeply affected by the bombings in London.
Summary: Then, a slight flicker of light flashed in the dark tunnel, a sign of the fact that her sight was working. Eyes closed with relief as she whispered a prayer of thanks to her God. However, this temporary peace passed when the lights came on, casting a faint light over what laid around her, revealing the source of the stench in a morbid spotlight.
---------------------------------------------------------
When she woke, she thought she went blind.
The eyelids fluttered to an open as the head turned slowly, making an attempt to observe one's surroundings. As the dark eyes struggled to grab a glimpse of anything --- anything that had color or shape. A cold sweat broke out as she took off her jacket, fabric damp from God knows what.
Everything was dark. So dark, so dark, so dark!
Slow turns became quick sweeps as the breaths became gasps. Hands started to grope for something that assured her that she was not dead. That was when she grabbed onto someone’s arm, limp and covered with a sticky stink that she had not noticed before. The sickening feel caused her to recoil as if the arm was a poisonous snake. Even though she could not see it fall, she knew that it fell onto the lifeless heap attached to it.
The body was dead.
The rotten smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils for the first time as she felt a warm liquid filled her eyes. Did the blind weep too? Her hand reached up to wipe the streaming tears as she blinked, hoping that light would fill her eyes. She wanted to go home. She wanted to get out of here. She wanted someone to come rescue her.
But who would come rescue her when she’s buried 20 feet below?
Then, a slight flicker of light flashed in the dark tunnel, a sign of the fact that her sight was working. Eyes closed with relief as she whispered a prayer of thanks to her God. However, this temporary peace passed when the lights came on, casting a faint light over what laid around her, revealing the source of the stench in a morbid spotlight.
She was surrounded by dead bodies.
A scream echoed off the walls, resonating into eternity as she struggled to get away from the gruesome scene. She needed to get away. She needed to get away from this scene. A black stiletto caught onto the jacket of a dead businessman, causing her to trip and fall, her descent to the ground broken by the quickly cooling body. As quickly as she fell, her breakfast forced itself up as she convulsed, a mixture of sickening gasps and sobs escaping as she clawed at something.
God - why me, why?!?!
Minutes of gasps passed until she found the strength to stand up. A pain shot up her back as she rubbed the wet fabric. All right. She had to get out of here. She was too young to die here. Too young to be defeated by this. She wanted to go home.
Another shaky step on the side of the tracks before she continued to walk. Another dead body. Another face twisted in a mixture of surprise and agony. They didn’t know what hit them. It wasn’t fair for them to die. Hand scrapping against the wall for guidance as the other held onto her purse, finally reached a platform, eyes glazed over as she stared at the men that grabbed for her and hoisted her into the arms of crying family members and friends.
“My baby! OH MY BABY!”
“You’re alive, oh my God, I thought you were dead!”
“Honey, thank God you’re safe!”
“Bloody hell, I thought that blast killed everyone.”
A weak smile swept over the tired, sick face before she closed her eyes again and her limp form fell backwards.
---- end of train
Rated: R (imagery)
Started: 07.12.2005
Ended: 07.12.2005
Author's Note: This piece is written in loving memory of London, the city I love. When I heard about this incident, my father was in Europe at the time and I thought that he might have gone back to England at the time (he's originally from there). However, our trip there a year ago made me connect with the city and the people there. So, I was deeply affected by the bombings in London.
Summary: Then, a slight flicker of light flashed in the dark tunnel, a sign of the fact that her sight was working. Eyes closed with relief as she whispered a prayer of thanks to her God. However, this temporary peace passed when the lights came on, casting a faint light over what laid around her, revealing the source of the stench in a morbid spotlight.
---------------------------------------------------------
When she woke, she thought she went blind.
The eyelids fluttered to an open as the head turned slowly, making an attempt to observe one's surroundings. As the dark eyes struggled to grab a glimpse of anything --- anything that had color or shape. A cold sweat broke out as she took off her jacket, fabric damp from God knows what.
Everything was dark. So dark, so dark, so dark!
Slow turns became quick sweeps as the breaths became gasps. Hands started to grope for something that assured her that she was not dead. That was when she grabbed onto someone’s arm, limp and covered with a sticky stink that she had not noticed before. The sickening feel caused her to recoil as if the arm was a poisonous snake. Even though she could not see it fall, she knew that it fell onto the lifeless heap attached to it.
The body was dead.
The rotten smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils for the first time as she felt a warm liquid filled her eyes. Did the blind weep too? Her hand reached up to wipe the streaming tears as she blinked, hoping that light would fill her eyes. She wanted to go home. She wanted to get out of here. She wanted someone to come rescue her.
But who would come rescue her when she’s buried 20 feet below?
Then, a slight flicker of light flashed in the dark tunnel, a sign of the fact that her sight was working. Eyes closed with relief as she whispered a prayer of thanks to her God. However, this temporary peace passed when the lights came on, casting a faint light over what laid around her, revealing the source of the stench in a morbid spotlight.
She was surrounded by dead bodies.
A scream echoed off the walls, resonating into eternity as she struggled to get away from the gruesome scene. She needed to get away. She needed to get away from this scene. A black stiletto caught onto the jacket of a dead businessman, causing her to trip and fall, her descent to the ground broken by the quickly cooling body. As quickly as she fell, her breakfast forced itself up as she convulsed, a mixture of sickening gasps and sobs escaping as she clawed at something.
God - why me, why?!?!
Minutes of gasps passed until she found the strength to stand up. A pain shot up her back as she rubbed the wet fabric. All right. She had to get out of here. She was too young to die here. Too young to be defeated by this. She wanted to go home.
Another shaky step on the side of the tracks before she continued to walk. Another dead body. Another face twisted in a mixture of surprise and agony. They didn’t know what hit them. It wasn’t fair for them to die. Hand scrapping against the wall for guidance as the other held onto her purse, finally reached a platform, eyes glazed over as she stared at the men that grabbed for her and hoisted her into the arms of crying family members and friends.
“My baby! OH MY BABY!”
“You’re alive, oh my God, I thought you were dead!”
“Honey, thank God you’re safe!”
“Bloody hell, I thought that blast killed everyone.”
A weak smile swept over the tired, sick face before she closed her eyes again and her limp form fell backwards.
---- end of train