Vanished

I thought I was about to die. There are few times one thinks this; few times A PERSON is convinced THAT DEATH IS LOOKING YOU IN THE EYE; this time I am terrified and flooded with worry that these are my last few minutes. I close my eyes and find myself, not begging God to spare me but screaming, shouting, yelling down the mountain; however, my cries aren't cries of help, they are cries of good-bye. MY SHOULDER LENGTH, BROWN CURLS ARE WHIPPED INTO MY MOUTH BY THE FEROCIOUS WIND AS I OPEN IT TO SCREAM ONCE MORE. I can’t believe I have given up, resigned myself to this miserable fate. My voice echoes back and sounds weak and feeble. Thunder bursts my eardrums; lightning fizzes with electricity, so close I can feel the vibration; a blinding sheet of pelting rain surrounds me. I am soaking, cold, lost, and scared. STINGING, SALTY TEARS CASCADE DOWN MY CHEEKS.
“PLEASE.” I WHISPER. “PLEASE CAN THIS ALL JUST END!”
When will someone come to rescue me? How have I ended up in this awful situation, alone on the edge of a cliff, wet and freezing and gripping onto a FENCE, slowly, cautiously, anxiously edging my way down the slippery grass that covers the steep, tall, rocky hill? I face a life threatening situation. Either I stay, gripping onto the fence, waiting for a rescuer or I go, inching my way towards the stile that marks the half-way point, with scarcely enough bushes to grab onto. I go with the latter option. My heart’s in my mouth as I wait for the next clap of thunder.
Then, as I run to the gate, I slip, falling into the mud, slippery grass and horse muck. SOME OF IT GETS ON MY NOSE AND MY LIPS AND THE REPULSIVE TASTE FLOODS MY MOUTH, BUT I DON’T EVEN CARE ANYMORE. A shooting pain is running up my left leg, but I ignore it. I drag myself onto my knees and crawl, not caring how muddy or mucky I get. I continue; I don’t know how, but I do. I press myself into the earth, as if it could save me. I’m talking now, speaking. I talk about my life: about Mum, Josh, Aunty Jo and Uncle Jack; about my rabbits, Carrot and Lettuce and about Gem, my puppy, my pets which are now all dead. I chatter about my school; remnants of memories that come flooding back to me; events I didn't know about crowd my head. As I natter on, my past flashes before me. No! I tell myself. I won’t die, I CAN’T DIE! But I will; there IS no hope.
The pain has spread from my left leg, to my right leg and up my left arm. I don’t care. I continue talking whilst dragging myself towards the stile. All of a sudden, I hear a shout. Not my own, nor Granny’s – oh God, how am I, HER ONLY GRANDDAUGHTER, WHO HAS DISAPPOINTED HER ENOUGH ALREADY, going to explain this to Granny? It’s someone in a fluorescent yellow jacket, holding a stretcher.
“HELP! HELP! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME NOW!” I SHRIEK. I see huge brown hiking boots and I squeal, screech and bawl until my throat is raw. But they pay no attention.
“IT’S JUST A LITTLE BIT FURTHER UP. CAREFUL YOU DON’T SLIP, THOUGH.” THEY’RE SO CLOSE I CAN HEAR THEM TALKING. BUT they’re climbing up and then they’re gone. I don’t even think that using my mobile would help, there's no signal up here anyway. I try to slither down the hill but I bash my head on the hard earth. I see the stile, and reach out to grab it, trying to pull myself towards it; my fingers grasp air. I hear the silent shriek of lightning. All I can do is scream good-bye, BEFORE I am catapulted into complete blackness.