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short story•

Quake - in tribute to Haiti

12th January 2010

You are in bed...fast asleep. Suddenly the floor turns to jelly, but this is no gentle liquid motion, but a jarring, wrenching, shuddering feeling of awesome proportions. Without warning the room has turned into a sickening roller coaster ride and it is terrifying.

The most frightening part is the sound. This is not a dull rumble like thunder. This is deafening, roaring sound coming from everywhere...it sounds like the end of the world. Other sounds break in: books and DVD's toppling off shelves, glasses, plates and windows shattering, and the television thumping to the ground and the screen shattering.

You realise that the horrendous creaking all around you is the building you live in. Walls, ceiling and floors look like they are breathing in and out. Everything rattling and shaking. You realise that there are 6 storeys above your head. The lights go off and it is pitch dark...

I try to make it to the door, to get out into the light, the open world like we were always told to do if an earthquake happened. Just breaking the audio barrier, of the rumbling around you, is a high pitch wail that has escaped from my baby sister who was, until a little while ago, fast asleep in her cradle. I froze. The daunting truth reaches my mind as the piercing cry of Baby Emmanuel reaches my ears. I couldn't just leave him, my only family, he is all I have; he is my life.

The initial quake had stopped, it only lasted a short while but the whole place was in ruins. The ceiling's about to buckle and the 6 floors above us come crashing down. I treaded across the broken CD's and the glass that littered the floor towards Emmanuel who was still screaming. When I got to him little silver beads were dripping down his cheeks leaving shinny trails behind. I picked him carefully out of his cream, dust covered basket. "Shhhh. Shhhh." I whispered soothingly, cradling him in my arms. Both mum and dad were working today so it was just Emmanuel and me and in the house.

The door, the door out to the sun and the world outside was jammed shut. The frame had been bent out of shape so it would no longer open. The air around us was filled with a strong pungent odour that made my stomach churn; it reminded me faintly of rotten eggs. The gas pipes. But it was too late a spark went off somewhere and ignited the LPG that had leaked, behind me there was a small explosion as all the gas was burnt away. Shielding Emmanuel's face from the heat with my body my back was boiling. I could smell something burning and dreaded to think what it was but had a sneaking suspicion that it was my hair. I dared to take a look at the roaring inferno that was behind me - but it was a big mistake. My eyebrows were instantly singed off and my eyes burned just looking at the blinding light that the fire created. By now the fire had spread; engulfing the kitchen and living room including the moses basket that Emmanuel had been in.

The heat pushed me closer to the door that was still impossible to get through. I tried applying force to it by shoving it but the door refused to budge. The smoke was now getting to my lungs creating a tingling sensation in my chest and making my breathing hard; I felt sorry for Emmanuel being only 7 months old and having to put up with this trauma. I sank to my knees, cooler, cleaner air rushed to great my lungs - hot air and smoke rise and the cool, clearer is push to the ground.

A single tear pricked in the corner of my eye. I was scared; scared that Emmanuel was going to die; scared that this would be the end; scared that the roof would collapse under the pressure that was being applied to it or that the ever growing fire would reach us - I just hope it ended quickly. Pulling Emmanuel towards my chest I curled up in the fatal position excepting the end.

A slither of light burst from behind me; "Bronte. Bronte can you hear me?" A voice called from outside - Nastassia Paris from upstairs. Maybe there was hope.

I quickly edged away from the door pulling myself up from the floor; "I am in here; the doors jammed, we can't get out. Nastassia; the LPG has leaked, there's a fire...a big one."

"It's ok darling, we'll get you out just stand back from the door." I took as many steps as the fire allowed me too, it was still roaring against my back but I ignored it.

There was a bang and the door flew open standing in the opening was Nastassia and most of the others from the block of flats that we live in. I rushed towards Nastassia who was standing with her arms open wide and engulfed me and Emmanuel in a huge hug. She smelled of smoke and dust but it didn't bother me; she and the rest of them had saved our lives. I pulled away from her and looked around. At first the light was blinding but as my eyes adjusted horrendous sites filled my eyes and ears. Building were flattened everywhere and the screams and cries of both adults and children were very much so audible.

The ground shivered; not as powerful as before but still strong. It sounded like we were standing in a stampede of Elephants in the centre of the Coliseum in ancient Rome. I grabbed hold of the lady on my left. Seraphina I think.

"It's alright dear, just a tremor." She comforted me; the buildings still shuddered though. "Just a tremor." She said again but I think she was reminding herself more than me. Surrounding us was as much death and pain as I will ever see in my life - I hope. It was a desolate scene; the houses in ruins and the roads cracked and crumbling away.

I turned back round to face our block which was now in flames; the orange lights appeared to be dancing on the white stone that our home was once made of. Anywhere else it would have been a mesmerising site but here and now it struck fear into my heart and reminded me again how real and how devastating earthquakes are.

"It has been announced that the devastating earthquake that hit Haiti earlier this week was measured at 7 on the Richter scale and has been titled the 7th deadliest earthquake ever recorded. Figures indicate around 100,000-316,000 fatalities and over 250,000 residential buildings have collapsed." The American presenter stated. "Included in the deaths is Archbishop of Port-au-Prince and opposition leader Micha Gaillard. The earthquake has brought a huge amount of devastation and the president of the United States of America has promised help to the Haitian people."

The radio fuzzed, crackled and the finally cut out. Seraphina motioned for us to go to bed. I lay down and pulled the make-shift sleeping bag up to my chin. We still haven't heard anything of Mum and Dad's whereabouts.

I fell asleep with a silver teardrop rolling down my cheek...

***

This story is dedicated to all the people who lost their lives in the terrible 2010 Haiti Earthquake and those who lost people in their lives that were close to them.

***
I wrote this short story in 2015 based off a short stimulus (one that has been added in before the story in bold) and is a piece based of the events that occurred during and after the Haiti Earthquake of 2010. It was written (for me) a really long time ago and while 2015 might not seem that far away my writing has improved leaps and bounds since then.

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