|Posted on February 23, 2014 at 9:20 AM|
I watched the light flicker before my eyes: I had to get to it. The light was shining, glowing from the lantern. I knew this was marking the entrance to the hospital. I had to make it. I focused intently and willed myself not to give up. Voices went through my head: I will get there, I can get there, I must get there. The will to survive took over my battered, broken body.
My only hand reached out desperately, cemented itself into the mud whilst my fragile nail beds claw onto the deathly soil that lay beneath me. The pain inside my body empowered me to propel my body forwards. As I inched closer to the light, it shimmered brighter, illuminating my face like a lantern. I felt a huge weight bearing down upon me; gravity pulling me backwards as I attempted to reach the warm, welcoming sight of the lantern. Groaning and grappling with throbbing pain, I gritted my teeth in determination; my ears picked up the sounds of relief. I could hear the medical staff running and racing around the room. The deafening bombing noises mixed with the noise of my life line.
My spirits soared, my hope reinforced as I neared the entrance which was marked by the glow of the lantern. I cried out; however, my voice was silent, the sounds were muffled and inaudible. My throat was dry; the taste of blood was thick and nauseating. It stroked my airway like thick, acrid tar.
I felt the miraculous touch of life which pulled me onto a bed. I waivered in hazy consciousness. Now I lay here with my gaze fixed upon the lantern.
My beacon of hope. My saviour. My life.
- Grace Rayner
Image © Elliott Brown, used under Creative Commons license. (https://flic.kr/p/8p2CZf)