Stories, Thoughts and Snippets
Going Home 1 Going Home 2 Going Home 3 Going Home 4
Ayuda me! I could hear the scream even over the roaring in my ears; I could not open my left eye. I tried to look around, but smoke obscured my vision and stung at my eye. Shutting it again I tried to force myself up, not using my left arm because it hung limply from its socket and every movement it made caused me a biting pain. I got up to my knees, but when I tried to put weight onto my legs my left foot exploded in pain and I fell, barely managing to avoid landing on my left arm. Someone was shouting my name and coughing badly. The cry came again.
Fucking help me! Chuito, Luis, someone, please! I pulled myself towards the cry finally getting clear of the smoke and taking a deep painful breath, opening my eye and taking in the scene for the first time. Jorge was lying about twenty feet away from me, his face was a pulp, he was screaming through the bloody gap that must have been his mouth, though I could see now that at least his front teeth were gone. His legs both extended at an unnatural angle. One of his arms was pinned under something and the flames that engulfed it had burned away most the hair on his head already. I twisted, but could not see anyone else; the van lie on its side burning in a low black fire.
Jorge! I shouted, he thrashed a little trying to free his arm.
Chui! Help me, God, Chui help me I m burning. He gurgled through his own blood.
I drug myself as quickly as I could, but I was covered in abrasions that made every inch scream at me. By the time I got to him he had stopped making noises, but I could still see blood bubbling from his mouth. I took his arm and pulled at him as best I could, but without my legs or other arm I could not get much leverage to move him. Eventually I pushed myself up to my knees as I had before and gripping his arm as tightly as I could I threw myself backwards to the ground. The impact shot a bolt of lightening through my shoulder, but I could feel something give, and looking up I could see that I had freed Jorge, but most of the flesh on his arm had already been blackened, and it looked like he had left a good deal of himself behind under that twisted hunk of metal.