Helpless in Haiti
A helpless woman, pinned under a collapsed wall that one would believe to be a million pounds, could hear the screams and the chaotic roar of buildings crumbling like sand castles. Dust and debris cloaked the ground like ashes after a nuclear blast. The booms were deafening as the air was congested with embers. As she lay there, she hastily deliberated possible solutions to get her out of this dire situation. Powerlessly, she tried to holler a single syllable in the hopes that someone, anyone, would come to her rescue. No sound came out. Throat drier than sand, eager for even the smallest drop of water.
Moments passed that felt like hours, and someone, or rather, something, came along; however, the reaction she gave was not what one would expect from a trapped woman. She stared it in the eyes. Stunned, she tried her absolute hardest with every ounce of muscle in her body, not to let any noise of any level seep out. Like a snail making its way up the stem of a plant, the creature coasted along her right arm, up around her neck, and then above her head. No longer did she have any sight of what it was doing. An hour had passed, and soon, the stealthy serpent would carry on its own way. Finally, it left. Circling back, she continued contemplating a plan to escape. The woman desperately tried everything; thrusting the wall off of her bruised body; crawling out from underneath the chaos; shimmying her way out; and yelling. Yet, nothing worked. Every muscle in her body begged her to quit and allow fate to have its say in the situation.
It had been days, four and a half miserable, dreary, incomprehensible days; however it had felt a lot longer than that. It seemed as though she had adapted to a new radical lifestyle that consisted of absolutely nothing and unmeasurable amounts of pain. She grew weak. As perfect as her complete and full lips were, they became dry; they resembled the cracks in a desert. Strong, milk-white bones she used to possess, had slowly started to dwindle. Her glowing porcelain skin, turned stale and rough. Her eyes would sparkle with memories; now, the anguish behind them screamed out louder than a kid on a ride at a carnival. They sunk farther into her face each day. Her face used to speak of a life of joy and happiness; now, it only spoke of the sorrow and knowledge of what would be her unhappy ending now. With no body strength, she began to doubt herself as any person would in that situation. She found herself reflecting on her life and final thoughts of what could potentially be the end. What had she done that had been meaningful? Would others think she had made something of herself? Had she fulfilled her purpose for this life? Before she had time to finish her thoughts, the light in her eyes extinguished. Nothing to kindle the fire which was her life. Her problem rapidly been replaced with a new one. She no longer had to worry about being able to escape; although she wished to know if somebody would ever find her and know what happened. But for now, her body lay there to rot, until one day found.
... Situations like these are not common but in Haiti they are... We hear everyday that a certain number of people have already gone missing or have been found dead in Haiti. If Haiti wasn't already a terrible place to live before due to the extreme amounts of poverty, well it certainly is now. As a teen on the other side of the world, who gets most things I ask for and have a job and a loving, supportive family, I can only feel sorry for those in Haiti; lost all of their homes; lost all of their cars; in some cases family members; and pretty much their entire country. Lots of people have shown their empathy in large amounts by actually getting on a plane, and flying down there to help rebuild and repair what is left of Haiti. It would take an awful lot of empathy for someone to actually physically travel around the world to help someone that they don't even know or have ever heard of. If enough people took this massively generous, empathetic leap, it will spread like wildfire... [I like how you were able to draw on a source that you wrote yourself; it's a powerful link between your own creative response to a situation and the larger context of the topic. Good work!]
Moments passed that felt like hours, and someone, or rather, something, came along; however, the reaction she gave was not what one would expect from a trapped woman. She stared it in the eyes. Stunned, she tried her absolute hardest with every ounce of muscle in her body, not to let any noise of any level seep out. Like a snail making its way up the stem of a plant, the creature coasted along her right arm, up around her neck, and then above her head. No longer did she have any sight of what it was doing. An hour had passed, and soon, the stealthy serpent would carry on its own way. Finally, it left. Circling back, she continued contemplating a plan to escape. The woman desperately tried everything; thrusting the wall off of her bruised body; crawling out from underneath the chaos; shimmying her way out; and yelling. Yet, nothing worked. Every muscle in her body begged her to quit and allow fate to have its say in the situation.
It had been days, four and a half miserable, dreary, incomprehensible days; however it had felt a lot longer than that. It seemed as though she had adapted to a new radical lifestyle that consisted of absolutely nothing and unmeasurable amounts of pain. She grew weak. As perfect as her complete and full lips were, they became dry; they resembled the cracks in a desert. Strong, milk-white bones she used to possess, had slowly started to dwindle. Her glowing porcelain skin, turned stale and rough. Her eyes would sparkle with memories; now, the anguish behind them screamed out louder than a kid on a ride at a carnival. They sunk farther into her face each day. Her face used to speak of a life of joy and happiness; now, it only spoke of the sorrow and knowledge of what would be her unhappy ending now. With no body strength, she began to doubt herself as any person would in that situation. She found herself reflecting on her life and final thoughts of what could potentially be the end. What had she done that had been meaningful? Would others think she had made something of herself? Had she fulfilled her purpose for this life? Before she had time to finish her thoughts, the light in her eyes extinguished. Nothing to kindle the fire which was her life. Her problem rapidly been replaced with a new one. She no longer had to worry about being able to escape; although she wished to know if somebody would ever find her and know what happened. But for now, her body lay there to rot, until one day found.
... Situations like these are not common but in Haiti they are... We hear everyday that a certain number of people have already gone missing or have been found dead in Haiti. If Haiti wasn't already a terrible place to live before due to the extreme amounts of poverty, well it certainly is now. As a teen on the other side of the world, who gets most things I ask for and have a job and a loving, supportive family, I can only feel sorry for those in Haiti; lost all of their homes; lost all of their cars; in some cases family members; and pretty much their entire country. Lots of people have shown their empathy in large amounts by actually getting on a plane, and flying down there to help rebuild and repair what is left of Haiti. It would take an awful lot of empathy for someone to actually physically travel around the world to help someone that they don't even know or have ever heard of. If enough people took this massively generous, empathetic leap, it will spread like wildfire... [I like how you were able to draw on a source that you wrote yourself; it's a powerful link between your own creative response to a situation and the larger context of the topic. Good work!]
