The Seventh

I had another account on here but forgot my password and don't have the email address anymore. This is a story from that account called 'The Seventh' It is about a girls experience of the 7/7 bombings

Our feet are pounding off the pavement as we run, the world moving fast around us. We are in London. The nameless faces blur as we hurry past. Smiling as I run, my long hair follows me as it blows in the wind.

‘We’re going to miss it,’ I call, my head whipping to the side as I glance at my fellow runner, her bright green coat flying around her.

‘No we’re not,’ Elle shouts back. Our pace slows. Gripping the hard oyster card, I swipe it across the scanner. The barrier opens, I walk through. I watch them swing close as I throw myself around, ready for the next person to enter.

‘Bethany!’ Elle’s yell jolts me to reality. ‘Come on!’

‘What line is it?’ I ask as I match quick pace beside her.

‘Erm, there,’ she points to our left, ‘The Piccadilly Line.’ Taking a sharp left we walk down the escalators. Lower and lower the river of people descends. Reaching the bottom the flood divides, we head to the south side. The platform is full, yet no train seems to be approaching.

‘What time is it?’ Elle asks.

Shaking my watch forward I answer; ‘8.45, five more minutes.’

 Elle pushes me slightly, ‘Told you we’d make it.’

Rolling my eyes with exasperation, I look around. A young mother stood rocking her baby, the infant squalls echoes around the station.

‘Shh, Leah, sleep,’ the mother lovingly whispers to her child. A cough alerts me to an elderly couple. They sit beside one another holding hands, the women pats her husbands’ back. ‘Oh Henry, I told you to wear your jacket.’

Eventually, wind begins a gradual sweep through the busy platform; my hair lifts slightly as the train enters the station.  The train comes to halt and the doors slide open.

‘Hey!’ I snap as a dark skinned man pushes past me in a hurry. He heads to the first carriage. His unusually large rucksack is bopping up and down as he pushes onto the train.

‘Jackass,’ Elle mutters. As we step onto the second carriage we hold onto the pole, all the seats are taken. The elderly couple sit at the left side of the carriage; the wife begins to complain about the weather. Her husband nods his head as he pretends to listen. The mother sighs in relief as her daughter falls asleep. Looking out the door I see a man in a suit with a brief case running towards the doors. He launches himself in to the carriage, the doors slams behind him. He lets out a breath and leans onto the side of the carriage.

Suddenly the train leaps to life as it pulls away from the station. The man hauls out a newspaper from his bag. The mother sneezes. The elderly man grabs his wife’s hand, takes it up to his mouth kisses it. His wife’s face glows with love.

‘Aww,’ murmurs Elle as we both smile at the couple. I peer at the man’s newspaper. In big black writing at the top of the paper, the heading read; 7^th July 2005.

The right side of my face rapidly begins to heat up. Bright lights and a terrifying noise break through the wall of the carriage, as an explosion hurls me across the train. Bodies fall through the carriage, piercing screams fill the air. I am aware my body is twisting and turning as I smash into others. Burning red and white lights are exploding through the carriage.  Pain shoots through my right leg as I crash to the ground. Glass fragments from the shattered windows puncture my skin. Sticky warm liquid oozes down my face, from a gash across my forehead. Darkness envelops us all as the thundering blast dies out. The screaming and shouting echoes our terror. A baby’s weak cry can be heard above all the other noise. Dizziness passes over me, as waves of nausea bubble in my stomach. ‘What’s happening?’ Swallowing blood, I try to push myself up. Screaming out, I can feel a lightning strike of pain shooting throughout my leg.

‘ELLE!’ I scream, my throat raw, ‘ELLE WHERE ARE YOU?’ Hearing no reply over the other people’s shouts, fear pumps through my veins. Using my arms I summon all the strength I have left to drag my body across the floor. Pain ripples through me; begging me to stop, but I can’t. I have to find her.

‘ELLE!’  

I pull myself painstakingly towards the other side of the carriage. I stop, and pull my phone out of my pocket. Randomly I click a button which illuminates my surroundings. Those who could see the devastation around us let out more heart wrenching screams. Lighting up my path I begin to drag myself forward. I see two bodies lying face down, blood leaking onto the floor around them. I let out a sorrowful whimper as I recognise the intertwined hands. The elderly couple still clutching each other lay dead beside me. The baby’s cry began to wane as the child becomes weaker. Taking a deep breath I move on.

‘Bethany!’ A male voice calls me. I head towards the voice; a man lying on the floor next to the broken door comes into view. ‘Are you Bethany?’ he asks, his face screwed up in pain.

‘Yes,’ I whimper as pain and fear runs through me. My head is throbbing and the blood continues to slowly run down my face, ‘Have you seen Elle?’

‘She’s there.’ He nods across.

Looking around, I don’t see her. ‘Where?’

‘I’m here,’ Elle’s weak voice calls quietly. Pulling myself over, I can make out her body crushed under some metal.

‘Elle, are you ok?’

‘I’m not,’ she grimaced, ‘I can’t feel my body!’ my tears mix with the blood flowing down my face.

‘What happened,’ she asks.

‘I think we crashed or something.’ I say grabbing her weak, freezing hand.

‘No, that was no crash,’ the man said, ‘that was a bomb!’

‘What!’ I say confused, ‘A bomb?’

‘Yes, the explosion was like the ones I’ve seen on the internet.’

‘Beth,’ Elle cries out, ‘Beth it hurts.’ I look over at her. Her eyes are tightly closed.

‘I know, just hold on.’

‘Beth, I’m cold.’ She coughs; blood begins to drip from the corner of her mouth. ‘Am I going to die?’

My throat constricts with emotion as I shake my head.

‘No, no you’re not.’ 

‘I’m scared,’ she whispers. I grip her hand even tighter, as if I am trying to pass my strength to her.

‘Do you remember the old music box Mum bought us?’ I ask her.

‘Yes...’

‘Do you remember how the song went?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Hum it with me.’

‘I can’t,’ she cries. She begins to sob, ‘Do it for me.’

Swallowing I nod and begin to hum. As her sobs begin to fade, the baby’s cry also slowly disappears. The man’s eyes have closed. I watch Elle’s face as I hum to her, like mum used to do. The life in her eyes fades, as her hand becomes limp in mine.

‘No!’ I scream, clutching her hand, ‘Don’t Leave! Please!’

Sobbing, I beg her to stay, knowing it’s already too late. The pain in my leg and head is nothing compared to the tight ache in my chest. I lie beside my lifeless sister.

‘Please,’ I whisper, ‘I don’t want to be alone.’

I reach over and close her eyes. Leaning in I rest my forehead on hers for a while. Gulping the tears; I lie loving her hand and begin humming the same sad lullaby. My phone’s battery dies. The darkness consumes us all. My body feels heavy; my eyes slowly close as exhaustion takes over. I feel myself fading into blackness.

Author's Note

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