When Are We Waking Up?

Bombings

Mikey’s POV

 

 I heard someone calling my name. Who was it? I tried to lift me eyelids but, failed to do so.

“Mikey! Mikey! Come on, man! Wake up! Please...”  It was Sam.

“Sam...” I spoke, my throat dry as sandpaper. I heard Sam letting out a sigh of relief.

“Somebody get him some water.”  Dave had called out to someone. I heard footfalls fade. I had another attempted of opening my eyes, this time I succeeded.  The light of the day searing my eyes, making it hard for me to see. After several blinks my eyes had managed to adjust to it all. I tried to sit up and felt a searing pain going up my right leg.

“Easy, man. Easy.” Sam said, helping me to sit up. I was in the basement of my house, lying on a sleeping bag we had brought down in case of an emergency, like the one we’re in just now.

“What the hell happened!? We’re meant to be in the underground safe house! Why aren’t we there?” I croaked; my throat hurting.

“Well... we were meant to be but.... but the bombs just went off... barely anyone had time to get there... it... it was like a surprise attack....” Sam explained. James came into the room his leg bandaged up. He brought the water over to me and poured some into a little cup and allowed me to drink out of it. The water was warm, but I’m not complaining, it ran smoothly down my throat. I took another drink, keeping it in my mouth, allowing saliva to flow, then swallowed. I sighed in relief of finally having something to drink.

“Thanks, man.” I mumbled. “What happened to your leg?”

“Rubble... I was beside you, by the way. You were trapped underneath a metal pillar, broke your leg. I only got cuts and bruises. I felt your hand, on my chest, just before I passed out.” James explained to me.

“How long was I out for?”

 

“Three days.” Joe said.

Dave’s POV

 

 “Well, I think one of us should go up top and see the damage. I’m also suggesting that I should do it. I’ll be back in five minutes.” I was glad that Mikey was alive, but I feel bad for him. He should have died, and I don’t mean that in a bad way, but... everything is a fight for survival now, and I just wouldn’t want ANY of my friends to be caught up in it. I climbed the set of stairs leading to the hall on the ground floor of the house, opened the door, and walked out.

The house had been torn apart from the bombings and to people taking the little resources we had; all the necessities we had were stashed in the basement. I walked out of the house through the gap where the front door had once been and looked out into the devastated ruin that had once been our home, Cambridge. Now turned to ash, rubble and fire.