Trapped (standard:drama, 549 words)
Author: Kitty Brooks	Added: Sep 16 2001	Views/Reads: 3387/1	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
It is about a woman trapped under a collapsed building, and her thoughts in her final dark hour.

I reach for his hand, I kiss his lips. In his eyes are echoed the pain
in mine. I squeeze him to me and feel nothing but a limp wall of bones 
and shattered dreams. 

Dreams of the future, dreams of the past. 

The beach condo in Florida, the three kids running around. The dog and
two cats. The fish named Pete. The ice cream parlor with the sprinkled 
sherbet. The hospital in the country. The rain falling gently on his 
face, as he lifts it to the disppearing sun. 

I smile gently as the tears fall. So many things we could have done.
Now, pecause of petty hate, we can't do them at all. 

I can't move my arms, I can't feel my legs. I can feel my heart, slowly
breaking, as it throbs in my head. I can't see anything, but maybe 
that's because I have my eyes closed. I don't know which way is up, I 
don't understand where I am. I felt the Earth move, I know I stopped 
moving as the world turned dark. Still I found him, still I knew he was 
there. I wish I could have known, called in sick, taken a walk in the 
park. Anything but this. Anything. 

Am I alone? Are there others, trapped and unable to feel anything but
pain and sharp stabs of hate? I hope I am the only one, yet envy all 
those who made it out alive. But i'm still here, drifting in and out. 
Numbness is taking over my body, and all I have left are my thoughts. I 
panic when I can't feel him beside me, and search out his eyes in the 
darkness. They are still open, still staring staight ahead. Oh, God. 

I can feel the tears, because I know they're there. I try to move my
head away, but I can't. I use every last ounce of my strength left to 
bring his hand to my lips, and leave it there. I am dirty, but I don't 
care. I am never dirty. Take me now, make me die, I plead silently. I 
don't want to see him, lying there so still. Or was he like me? Was he 
alive? Was he staring at my lifeless eyes, wishing he could turn away? 

I choke the dust out of my throat, feeling the wetness. Blood. I lick my
lips, moving my eyes upward. I realize that we are crushed, the only 
reason I can still feel my face because two slabs of stone are lodged 
together, forming an arc above our heads. 

I feel sanity returning, that simple conclusion dragging back reaosn and
logic. They must be searching for survivors, but I know it is too late. 
I know I am lost, I know i've lost too much blood. I look back at him. 
Why did I have to be stronger? Why was God being so cruel? I feel 
another rumble, and I close my eyes, knowing it must be more weight 
falling on me. I'll be dead soon. I feel it coming swiftly. But I 
cannot leave, not yet. I have to say my farewells, I have to let my 
family know I love them, let them know... 

I finally manage to say weakly, "Goodbye." Then all went dark. 


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