The Once Named City of Love | Teen Ink

The Once Named City of Love

June 5, 2016
By caittlyn BRONZE, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania
caittlyn BRONZE, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The war ended long ago, but nobody told us. Henriquez had been injured in our last supply run, and it has been weeks since our last hope of rescue. Resources are little to none, and we are beginning to fear that our next detour might be our last.
As we walked the desolate streets of the once named city of love, I could feel a chill in the air, the wind whipping at our sides. The blue sky then disappeared into a deep grey ash as the dust began to surround us.
“Clear out!”
“The building’s coming down!” I could hear my squad yell out. The ground began to tremble. A horrific thunder filled the air as the structure quickly crashed to the ground. The next moment, all you could hear was screaming. I headed toward the sound to find Dane Zitowski, and Alex Henriquez, his legs crushed by the fallen debris.
“I’ll be right back!” Dane said as he vanished into the settling ash. Henriquez had been pinned underneath a piece of the fallen building and was now fading in and out of consciousness.
“Henriquez, you with me? DANE!” I yelled out.
“I’m here, I’m here!” He said as he emerged from the dust with a long, wooden board.
“We need to get this off of him! Ready to lift?” I nodded my head yes.
“Okay… 1, 2, 3!” Dane and I each grabbed a side and began lifting the enormous slab. His legs were bloody and mangled.
“There’s no way he’s going to be able to walk, help me get him on this board.” Dane said. Only after we lifted Henriquez could see how much blood he really lost, and at this point, it wasn’t looking good. With Dane holding him at his head, and I at his feet, we secured our injured friend and fled. As we left the building collapse behind, the snow-like ash and thick smell of dust lingered. We needed to get Henriquez back to the store and fast.
Once more we found ourselves walking the mile journey to where we have temporarily been calling home, the Monoprix. As we finally arrived home, we set Henriquez down on his cot. He had regained consciousness, though his legs lay mangled.
“You might want to grab something for him to bite down on.” Dane said. I grabbed a wooden spoon from the kitchen and placed it between Henriquez’s teeth. As Dane began to stitch the wounds, I could hear something faint in the distance. It sounded like a chopper. I ran to the door, and as I looked up into the sky, I could see a helicopter getting closer and closer. Screaming, I ran down the road, waving my arms, doing anything to get the attention of the pilot. It was no luck. Dismayed, I went back to the Monoprix to find Henriquez asleep, his legs wrapped in gauze. That night, we drank what was left of our whiskey, and went to bed.
It’s been about a month since then and we’re beginning to fear we may never be rescued, though Henriquez is beginning to gain function in his legs again. Dane and I have figured that if we can hold off for one more month, Henriquez will be healed enough that we could attempt to leave this wretched city once more. I just hope we make it until then.



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