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SpineOut : June July 2016
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like broken glass. It woke Kimberley up as well. The wind was howling outside. Curious and a little scared, I got up to turn the light on but it wasn’t working so I ran to the kitchen to get some matches to light a candle. My sister followed me out of bed, not knowing what was going on. Then I heard another bang behind me. The ceiling outside my bedroom door had collapsed. I could only see my sister’s small, slightly tanned leg trapped under the remains of the ceiling and some of the attic as well. I started to panic as she screamed in pain. I was a smart student, I paid attention in class, but nothing I had learnt at school had prepared me for this. She was on the other side of the debris so I couldn’t see if she was OK, but by the sounds of her cries she wasn’t. By now, the rain was lashing down and the strong winds were threatening to destroy our house. It was like an orchestra of noise. I felt a lump in my throat. ‘Kim!’ I yelled, ‘Stay calm.’ But getting a six-year-old to calm down was like trying to persuade my parents to buy me a car. Impossible! I tried to pull wood, bricks and other debris off her leg, but most of it was too heavy to carry. The noise from wind and rain was making it hard for me to reason. I cleared my mind and started to think properly. My heart was thumping so loud I could hear it. What to do, what to do, I thought to myself. Then I remembered Dad kept a box of tools in the cupboard in the main room - after all he was a builder. I sprinted to the cupboard and quickly grabbed the toolbox. I picked up the heaviest, most destructive-looking thing I could find and smashed it against the wall. After three big swings I started to see the wall cracking, and with a couple more powerful strikes it finally broke. Chips of white paint and gyprock spat everywhere. Sighing with relief I rushed through the hole I made into my room. Even though I could barely see my sister in the dark, I made out her big blue eyes. Her face was red, decorated with shiny teardrops. For some reason I felt responsible for my sister being injured. Seeing her like this made me sad, but I couldn’t give up. I was going to get through this for her. I told her everything was going to be alright although I did not know that for sure. I picked her up trying to pull her leg free. She screamed out in pain. I ignored her and kept pulling. When I finally pulled her out, a rush of relief filled my body. It was the first time since the ceiling collapsed that I thought we could actually make it through this. That was until I looked around to see that half our house had collapsed on us and that my room was destroyed. I strained my eyes trying hard not to let any tears out. I was about to turn 18, and grown-ups don’t cry, do they? I thought of my mum and dad, I wondered if they were OK right now. My thoughts were interrupted by my big white cupboard which was tilting towards us. I tried to move my sister out of the way but it was too late. Everything went black. A few weeks later we were in the car driving away, far away. We passed where the park used to be. We also passed the ruins of my old school. I felt upset when my mum says we may never return. The whole city has been destroyed. Who knew that at Christmas, a day of happiness and celebration, there could be such destruction and that we would be driving out of a place I used to call home? In the car I drew my mum outside the remains of our old house. She was sitting in a wheelchair with her eyes rimmed with tears. Behind the wheelchair is my dad. He doesn’t look too bad, but I sketch a couple of cuts and bruises on his legs. Holding my dad’s hand is my sister. She is not singing happily in front the tree; she is in pain. She has bandages wrapped tightly around her head and left leg. Things will never be the same and I will never forget Tracy.
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