Alone; empty
Nothing but me and the rubble on the broken floor.
Destruction,
Tears trickling down my lonely face and falling onto my grazed knees. I lie down on a destroyed building, but not just any building, my house, my home, my memories, lost forever.
The ground shakes again. As I look around it all comes flooding back to me, where’s my family, my mum, my dad, my sister. I scramble to my feet and career down the street screeching for my parents. I trip and cut my knee. I think to myself: could it be real, am I dreaming.
What’s happening to me?

Iscolation;disbelief

A boy, who had recieved the bad news,sits;he sits in a small area, alone. Rubbish and scrap scattered across the floor. Buildings have collapsed including his house-his home.

His mind racing through the memories with his parants. he tried not to believe it, but it was true . His parants were dead.

Tears formed in his eyes and started rapidly rolling down his face. Now he was alone.

My light is swinging back and fourth. I think nothing of it. I turn back to the TV to see what is happening else were. It blanks out so i look out the window.

Something is wrong.

I grab a bag and put some clothes in it and grasp  a blanket on my way out. I’m not going to…..

Make it. Am I. Am I dead? I hear a voice.Iit leaks through the deafening silence.

“Are you ok?” It says. I want to answer but I cant. I’m incapable of  moving. I desperetly try to breathe but the Dust stops me.

I heard a siron . It was ringing in my ears like an insult.

A cold hand opened  my eyes. I could see.

Where am I?

Craking, the world is craking.

Cowering in the corner of a room, is a boy, a room were he could once call home.

He looked at an armchair, he could see his mum laughing, telling him stories with real expression. She had sparkles in her eyes and smiled not with her mouth but with her eyes. Waving gently, the mum sent the boy upstairs to bed. The boy clambered into bed and fell asleep not know that that would be the last time he ever had dreams instead of nightmares.

In one blink of an eye, it was over.

The roof came crashing down and landed down on the armchair.That armchair was the last memory the boy could remember his my mum by . It was the night when the mum was reading stories on that very armchair, the one the boy has experienced being crushed in his very own eyes.

Having just witnessed the last memory of mum crumbling the boy sat in deep thought. He showed no expression he was just sitting blanking out everything that was going on around him, the noise of all the people and the world craking.