The Flashback

• Kayin Van Nelson, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2015

BANG! The flashback slammed into the young man suddenly, without any warning. One moment he was engrossed in a brilliant fantasy novel. An intricate tale about a young dragon rider and his quest across a magnificent world to stop a terrible evil. Then a split second later, he was reliving the most horrific and traumatising experience any man could undertake. An earthquake.
The ground was grunting and groaning, as though the earth was slowly feeding away on every little thing that balanced atop its surface. Manmade skyscrapers that once majestically stood on the horizon now cowered and crumbled, like bread being crushed by an angry chef into a million crumbs. Just ahead, the road surface burst open like an egg being cracked so all the yolk could dribble slowly out. Nothing was left but infinite darkness, ready to swallow all of the innocent people who moments ago had been residing peacefully in the world.
The young man, Jerry, was in the midst of it all. His throat felt as though it had swelled up so much that the supply of oxygen into his lungs was cut off. Despite the fact he was struggling to draw breath, every ounce of his being knew he should be trying to help. He could assist others, plead for people to take cover, beg them to protect themselves. Instead he did nothing in response to the disaster. He was a coward. A hollow figure with no backbone. Bravery was for others. He was no hero. All that his deeply pained mind could comprehend was one word, survive.
Jerry desperately wanted to run away, but his legs felt as though someone had anchored two large boulders to them. With every ounce of willpower, he shuffled one foot in front of the other and pressed on. Progress was painstakingly slow as he made his way across the abandoned highway. Sweat slithered down his forehead and he had wet pools underneath both armpits. After what seemed like an eternity he finally managed to reach the powerless city.
Scrambling silently through the ruins of what was once his glorious home, his entire core shook like an aftershock of the earthquake itself. An acrid stench of blood mingled with the dust in the air. The wounded were everywhere. It was like no other hell he had ever witnessed. Jerry averted his eyes from the bodies and tried to shut out the mayhem, destruction, and death.
In his heart he knew the sorrow would never leave him. He shook his head, reminding himself it was only a flashback. If he lived to be a thousand years old, he would be forever haunted by that day. But although he knew life would never be the same again, he also had to acknowledge he was lucky to be here. Still alive to remember the dead.