Air Disaster- Creative Writing

Air Disaster- Creative Writing
The sight that greeted my eyes was haunting. There were dead bodies asfar as the eye could see, but somehow nobody had a scratch on them.The plane was in pieces, scattered all around. As the waves rolled upthe beach, more and more bodies were revealed. The sun was burninghigh in the sky and everyone was beginning to tire out. The cliffstowered down on us; the sand burnt our feet as we trod carefullybetween the corpses. It was a shock; we hadn?t expected to findanything there, but it appeared that almost everyone who had been onthe plane was lying here, on the beach, with us. It was a very strangesight, seeing all these people dead, but somehow not hurt, at leastnot on the outside.All I wanted to do was find someone, get a story, then leave this terrible place. I searched for hours beneath the wreckage, desperately rummaging around to find somebody. I was there long after the television crews left, after the radio interviewers, hunting. As the sun began to go down, I thought I might as well give up, that there was no life left, when I heard a whimper. I couldn?t tell where it came from, so I shouted, ?Hello? Is there anybody there?? No reply. I shouted again, louder this time, so that it echoed around the cliffs. Then I saw her. Lying beneath one of the detached wings of the shattered aircraft, only her bare, pale arm was visible, but she was waving it around desperately. I looked around for someone who could help me ? God knew I couldn?t lift that thing by myself ? but everyone had gone. I whipped out my phone, and called the only person I knew would help me. Tom. My ever supportive, caring brother, he would do anything to help me get a story, to help me get further in my career. ?Tom! You have to get help!? I yelled into the phone. ?Rob, what?s wrong?? he replied. ?You?ve heard about the plane crash?? ?Of course. Who hasn?t?? ?Well, I came down here to get a story, but everyone else left ages ago. I found a girl, she?s getting crushed beneath a bit of the plane. I don?t know what to do; I can?t get her out by myself. Can you get help, please?? ?Okay, first of all Rob, you need to calm down. You panicking is not going to speed things up at all. I will try and get help as soon as possible. How on earth did you get down there? The cliff is much to steep to drive down.? ?Um, I walked, along with everyone else. Is that a problem?? ?Yes. We need to get help down there, and fast. I will call an air ambulance and get them to fly in. Is there any space for a helicopter to land?? ?Not really. The beach is scattered with bodies, there?s not really any space. Can?t we lift her body out?? ?We might be able to. I will get help as soon as possible. Wait there, keep talking to her and make sure she?s not unconscious.? ?Okay, but be quick!? ?I will. Goodbye.? I hung up. I really didn?t want to have this girl?s death on my hands, so I did what Tom had said. I kept talking to her. I asked her what her name was, where she lived, how old she was, what she was doing on the plane. She was called Anna, 14, and she was visiting her grandparents for a weekend. After what seemed like hours, a whole army of paramedics and fire fighters arrived in an enormous helicopter. As it got colder and windier, the fire fighters assessed the situation quickly, but carefully. They finally decided the only way to help her was to get her out from under the immense weight. They lowered a thick cable made up of about 10 wires all wound together down from the helicopter. They checked again and again that it was fastened securely around the fragment of the plane, and slowly began to lift it up. Once it reached the end of the cable, the helicopter rose until it was above the cliffs, and lowered the wing down on top of them. I watched intently as the paramedics very carefully helped her limp body up onto a stretcher, made sure she was safe, and connected the now free cable to it and her body was slowly and cautiously lifted into the helicopter. Then a rope ladder was released from the base of the helicopter for us all to climb up. Eventually, we all warily climbed up into the helicopter, and I began to question her further, but the one of the older, sticter-looking paramedics pushed me away and assured me I would get the first interview, as soon as they knew she was stable. I called Tom and asked him if he could find out about the plane for me. I wanted to know everything. If I got to the bottom of this story it could be huge. We got to the hospital in a matter of minutes, and she was rushed straight into an inspection room. She also didn?t appear to have been seriously hurt, just a bit bruised, but they insisted on keeping her in overnight for observation and some more tests. I was still at a loss as to why nobody was actually hurt, so I insisted on getting an interview immediately after she was examined. I walked into Anna?s room, and started straight away. She was lying on a regular hospital bed, and was sleeping. I gently touched her arm in attempt to wake her, she turned over and let out a quiet moan. Slowly her eyes began to open, but then as she saw me sitting down in the chair next to her bed, she violently jumped back into the bed, and clasped her chest. It was obvious that she had gone through a lot on the plane, and I told myself, that I was up for a very good story. ?Hey Anna, hows it going.? I asked softly. There was a short silence as the girl looked at me, ?I?m doing ok. Why do they keep doing tests on me? Where am I? Who are you? I need to get on a plane.? Her voice was slightly shaky but she had seemed to recover nicely, though what she said seemed strange to me. ?You were on the plane, don?t you remember?? ?No, I need to get on it, my grandparents are waiting for me.? It was clear that she had lost her memory since I had last talked to her. As the interview went on it was clear that she couldn?t remember anything after falling asleep at the airport. This was bad, I needed to get to the bottom of the story as soon as possible. I spoke to the doctor that had done the tests on her, and he told me that her memory of the events should return in a few days, and that all I could do was be patient. It was too much. Every time I thought of a possible explanation to this story it got my heart going, I wanted to know now. I rang Tom that night; I wanted answers: ?Well, there is something strange in the records on the black box? He began to explain, after the usual hellos, ?its seems that the pilots are just talking, and then suddenly, half way through a sentence, it falls quiet. Then you can hear the second pilot asking what?s wrong. He has panic in his voice, but there doesn?t seem to be anything actually wrong in the room. And then, he falls quiet as well, and this is when the plane begins to soar down the beach.? I was amazed, and it made me even more intrigued by the story. ?Thank you Tom, keep working.? ?I will, I?ll call you whenever I hear more.? I flipped the top of my phone down and sat back in my chair. I could tell this was the start of something really exciting. Possible end here

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