This story takes place from a real experience that I encountered but I have edited it to fit for a story.
I laid sprawled out along the couch, sinking into the cushions and feeling the subtle, building pressures of a Sunday evening rising. It was two summers after the incident, so I thought very little of selecting the movie ‘Tsunami’.
The opening titles rolled onto the screen and pictures of the scenic Thai coastline filled the background, which was followed by a lackadaisical twenty minutes introducing the central figures to the story and showing the relationships between each character and the family values that they held.
As the footage of a Tsunami swilled onto screen, a sudden juxtaposition of emotions filled my body; I suddenly felt stressed and terrified as memories of the horrific summer of twenty twelve began to haunt my mind.
A rattle on the windows and a scream through the doorway sparked the first wave of panic which echoed around the room. A Thai maid’s cries of an incoming Tsunami resonated off the groups bewildered faces. The others stumbled in shock, having felt the minuet tremble only minutes’ prior, failing to draw the connection between the rumble in the belly of the Earth and the simultaneous eruption of water out at sea.
I came to my senses and called for the others to run. We streaked out of the room and onto the hotel corridor, then we approached the exit hastily. The street was traumatized and shocked. Cars and children alike had been abandoned, sirens were wailing in the distance, but the panic was only just starting. Higher ground was the obvious example of safety, so I put it upon myself to seek out the growing crowd packing up the road that strangled the cliff.
An abandoned car was on the side of the road, I scuttled up the bonnet and stood on the roof. A rush of people to my left snaked out of the town and towards the hill road, to my right stood a slightly less crowded private path that ended in a towering guarded fence that secured the private houses behind. I jumped off the bonnet of the car and approached the busy street, dragging the other alongside.
A young girl in the opposite direction, crying for her mother, looked around for hopeless attention. My brother and I ran to the young Thai girl, she motioned with her finger that her mother had ran the other way- up the private path. In a fresh wave of panic, I threw her over my shoulder and we traced our way back past the hotel and towards the private road. As we approached the gate, her thankful mother grabbed her from me. We called for the gate guard to open up, but clearly no acknowledgement of our cries were answered.
I pulled my brother aside from the growing crowd and linked my hands together and told for him to stand on and climb up. He kicked of my hands and placed his feet on my shoulders and hoisted himself onto the gate. From there he turned back to me to give a hand to drag me up and over. We flopped onto the other side and traced the path hastily up a steep hill dotted with large holiday homes.
Once we felt safe at about a hundred meters above sea level, we approached a house and tapped on the windows. I made conversation with the owner and asked to use their Wi-Fi in order to contact our parents, which they generously allowed.
The traumatic experience was over, I’d led the way to the top of a hill and found a place of comfort and safety. When the wave came, we were free from worries.
My name is Max, I am a 18 year old student currently studying in Canada.
If you guys enjoyed this then I will post part two tomorrow.
Thanks for reading, commenting, and sharing! :)
