Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.
All comments good or bad welcomed. I will try and reply to each and every one but please note that all email comments from an invalid email address will be deleted immediately and will not be read.
I was going to visit dad, I hadn't managed to get across to see him for a couple of weeks; when I was free, he was busy, and when he was free, I was busy, life gets like that sometimes. We had, of course, texted, and face timed each other, but it just isn't the same as sitting next to each other and drinking a cup of tea. And dad had a great balcony for drinking tea and watching the boats in the estuary.
I pulled into the underground car park, dad's flat was on the third floor and the block had the benefit of an underground car park and I knew the entry code and so it was just easier than trying to park in the surrounding streets. Dad didn't have a car, so I parked in his allotted space. As I say, easy.
I got out of the car and as I turned to lock it there was a shaking and a rumbling sound, and I fell to the floor. I was confused, as I lay on the floor there was still shaking and then there was a load of creaking and strange cracking noises and then I was covered in dust and everything went dark and I couldn't see anything, and my head hurt.
I was trying to work to what had happened, it seemed as if the ceiling to the carpark had collapsed. I couldn't see much; it was dark and the air was filled with dust. I tried to keep my eyes shut to keep out the dust and I felt around with my hands, trying to work out my situation.
Reaching upwards I felt hard concrete with a lot of cracks in it, and my car was crushed with concrete laying on it, the windows gone, and the car roof squashed down. There was a large gap that I was sat in, I guessed that if I had been sat in my car then I would not have been so lucky, I would have been injured, or even killed. I couldn't move much in any direction, and as I tried to move, I realised that my legs also hurt. I tried to feel for the site of the damage, but I couldn't really find anything obvious, they just hurt.
Well now, I was in a pickle. I was trapped, surrounded by concrete and I couldn't seem to find a way out, and I just hoped that someone would look and see if anyone was trapped; there was, it was me. And then I thought about dad and that upset me. If the block of flats had collapsed then there was little chance he could have survived and I started crying, I didn't want to be an orphan.
There was more shaking, throwing me against the side of my wrecked car and I banged my head, I was stunned and I began to feel sleepy, I just wanted to lay down and close my eyes, and wrap a duvet around me and dream of boats bobbing in the harbour and drink tea with dad. I lay half with it and half out of it for some time.
"Hello," a voice yelled, snapping me out of my snooze, "is anyone down here?"
"Help," I shouted back, "I am trapped."
"Hello, okay, are you injured?"
"Perhaps, my legs hurt but I can move them, and I have had a bang to my head. What happened?"
"Okay, there was an earthquake, the flats collapsed. What is your name?"
"I am Mica, I was visiting my dad in thirty-one, I am in his parking space."
"Okay Mica, I want you to stay still, and we will look at the plans and work out how to get to you, okay?"
"Okay." I yelled back. I was very tired and wished that they would hurry up so that I could lay down in a bed and go to sleep, I was so tired.
There was some more shaking and creaking, but whatever was above me seemed solid and didn't come crashing down on me, but then I thought that if it had at least I would have been able to sleep.
Then I remembered you get Tsunamis with earthquakes, and I was in an underground carpark and that worried me, but then I remember reading that if you have to go, then drowning is one of the easiest ways to go. I hoped that dad had gone quickly, hopefully a complex of flats collapsing onto him would have been a quick end.
I was struggling to breathe, there was so much dust in the air. I managed to get my blouse off and tied it around my face, covering my nose and my mouth. My thinking was that it would filter some of the dust and make breathing a little easier. I leant back against my car and closed my eyes and sat thinking of the times I had spent with dad, how he always made me laugh with his terrible dad jokes, how, when I was a child, he would tickle me until tears fell from my eyes and I was squealing for him to stop. That was all gone now.
"Mica," a voice called, "Mica are you still with us?"
"Yes," I croaked back, "it is very dusty and I am very tired."
"Okay. We know where you are and we are working our way to you. We have some heavy machinery so there will be a lot of noise. We will stop every five minutes and check that you are still okay."
"Yes. Thankyou." I just wanted to sleep to be honest, I wished that they would hurry and get me to a bed.
I could hear a big engine noise and then things started shaking. There were more cracking sounds, but the big block of concrete above me seemed to hold steady. I guessed that I was probably okay for now. The noise carried on and I could hear the whir of the hydraulics, they probably were using a big digger of some kind to move stuff out of the way. There was more shaking, and I rolled to my side and lay on the floor, an arm over my head, the other under my face as if it were a pillow. There was a big crack sound and then some light shone my way, it seemed so bright, I had to squint. The noises all stopped.
"Mica," the voice called.
"Yes." I answered.
"Okay, good, we are getting closer to you. Your dad is safe, I have told him you are okay."
Oh thank God, he could tell me later how he escaped and then he can tell me some of his awful jokes, but for now, please hurry, I need to sleep.
"Hi dad, I just want to curl up and sleep dad."
"Oh no Mica," the voice called back, "try not to sleep, not yet, hold on. The noise is going to start up again."
There were more rumbles and squeaks and the load engine noises and the dust swirled again. The concrete above me seemed to move, and I squealed, in fright I think. There was more light and I could now see the yellow of the big machine. There was a lot more shaking and then finally it stopped, and I could see a way out. I tried to move but my legs did not want to co-operate.
"Okay Mica, we can see you, we are coming to get you."
I could see a man in Hi-Viz scrabbling over the rubble and soon he got to me and opened a bottle of water.
"Here, drink, it is just water. It will help your throat."
I pulled my blouse mask down and gulped at the water. The man was pulling some rope and then a stretcher appeared.
"I am going to strap you to this Mica, and we are going to pull you out."
It hurt my back and my legs a lot when he rolled me onto the stretcher, and then straps were tightened around me, and I couldn't move. He put a proper filter mask around my face covering my nose and mouth.
"Right Mica, this next bit is going to be a bit bumpy. We are going to pull your stretcher back and get you in an ambulance, okay? Your dad will visit you in hospital. Now take a deep breath and here we go."
A bit bumpy? They were not joking; it was almost worse than when the flats fell on me. The rescue guy was trying to hold the end of the stretcher, where my head was, up to ease the bumps, but the foot end bumped and banged along over the rubble. After what seemed like an age, I was in an opening and a number of hands reached down and lifted the stretcher. There was a moment as the rope was removed and then I was carried and before I knew it, I was in an ambulance.
A paramedic was talking to me, telling me what he was doing as he checked me over, but I really wasn't listening, it was just noise and all I wanted to do was go to sleep. It seems I had been hit in the head and he was worried about that, my legs were swollen, but there appeared to be no fractures and then it all went woozy and I was asleep or unconscious, who knew?
When I came to, I was on a bed in the hospital and medical people were fussing around me, I was being asked questions and I tried to answer them as best I could, but it was all very confusing. Eventually the questions stopped and a sort of quiet descended and then I fell back asleep. When I woke up I guessed it was night time, the lights were subdued and I realised dad was sitting in a chair next to me, I think he dozing.
I tried to sit up and found I was still groggy and woozy. My dad disturbed.
"Hello baby, welcome back."
"Drink," I managed, my throat as dry as a badger's.
Dad passed me a sippy cup from the side table and sucked, easing my mouth and dry throat.
"We're lucky to have you baby," Dad said as I sipped.
"My block of flats just collapsed like a deck of cards. I had just gone to get some milk when the quake struck."
I just nodded, I guessed I knew I was lucky, but I just didn't feel it, in fact I didn't think I actually felt anything, I really felt disconnected, the way you do with strong painkillers.
"Two of my neighbours are still missing, although they may have found them by now. I guess I am homeless now."
"You can stay at mine," I croaked. "You have a set of keys, mine are under the rubble somewhere, along with my phone and all my credit cards."
"Okay, you will be here for a few days. You were hit on the head by something, and your skull has a small fracture. You have hairline fractures in each of your legs, so you won't be walking far for a while."
"Oh, okay, perhaps that is why I was so sleepy, it is all a bit of a hazy blur to be honest." My throat was finally beginning to ease, the water hopefully washing away the remnants of the dust that had coated it.
I lay in hospital for four days until they decided that I could go home and they discharged me. Dad would be there to look after me. He went and came back to the hospital with some clothes for me to wear, knickers, bra, a dress and a coat, the weather could be chilly, and I had spent several days in a very warm hospital. I couldn't get the knickers on over the leg supports, so didn't bother, dad put them in his pocket. I was told not to walk, more than a few yards, and always with crutches. I was wheeled to the entrance in a wheelchair, my aluminium crutches gripped in my hands, and I was helped into the taxi.
The ride back to mine was bumpy, not the car's fault, simply the state of the roads. Dad helped me from the taxi and I 'crutched' myself to the front door. I sort of sat, sort of collapsed onto my sofa and breathed a huge sigh of relief. And then reality struck, of how near to death I had been, how near dad had been to death, and I burst into tears, that isn't me, I didn't even cry watching Lion King. I don't do that. Dad looked at me as if I were a piece of molten lava, not knowing what to do, he settled for a cuddle, hugging me tight to him, my breasts crushing into him as we squeezed and I sobbed. Then I just lay quiet for a while, glad to be alive, glad dad was alive.
"Dad, I only have one bed, my second bedroom is just full of junk." I said.
"It'll be fine Mica; I can sleep on the sofa."
"You are too big for the sofa, no, I shall have the sofa, and you can have the bed."
"No. I am not putting you out of your own bed, that is the end of it, don't argue."
