Vanished

Chapter 1: The Beginning
I thought I was about to die. There are few times one thinks this; few times one is convinced one is looking death in the eye; this time I am terrified and flooded with worry that these are my last few minutes. I close my eyes and find myself, not begging God to spare me but screaming, shouting, yelling down the mountain; however, my cries aren't cries of help, they are cries of good-bye. I can’t believe I have given up, resigned myself to this miserable fate. My voice echoes back and sounds weak and feeble. Thunder bursts my eardrums; lightning fizzes with electricity, so close I can feel the vibration; a blinding sheet of pelting rain surrounds me. I am soaking, cold, lost, and scared. When will someone come to rescue me? How have I ended up in this awful situation, alone on the edge of a cliff, wet and freezing and gripping onto a gate, slowly, cautiously, anxiously edging my way down the slippery grass that covers the steep, tall, rocky hill? I face a potentially life threatening situation. Either I stay, gripping onto the fence, waiting for a rescuer or I go, inching my way towards the stile that marks the half-way point, with scarcely enough bushes to grab onto. I go with the latter option. My heart’s in my mouth as I wait for the next clap of thunder. Then, as I run to the gate, I slip, falling into the mud, slippery grass and horse muck. A shooting pain is running up my left leg, but I ignore it. I drag myself onto my knees and crawl, not caring how muddy or mucky I get. I continue; I don’t know how, but I do. I press myself into the earth, as if it could save me. I’m talking now, speaking. I talk about my life: about Mum, Josh, Aunty Jo and Uncle Jack; about my rabbits, Carrot and Lettuce and about Gem, my puppy, all of my pets which are now all dead. I chatter about my school; remnants of memories that come flooding back to me; events I didn't know about crowd my head. As I natter on, my past flashes before me. No! I tell myself. I won’t die! But I know I will; I know there’s no hope. The pain has spread from my left leg, to my right leg and up my left arm. I don’t care. I continue talking whilst dragging myself towards the stile. All of a sudden, I hear a shout. Not my own, nor Granny’s – oh God, how am I going to explain this to Granny? It’s someone in a fluorescent yellow jacket, holding a stretcher. I see huge brown hiking boots and I squeal, screech and bawl until my throat is raw. But they pay no attention. They’re climbing up and then they’re gone. I don’t even think that using my mobile would help, there's no signal up here anyway. I try to slither down the hill but I bash my head on the hard earth. I see the stile, and reach out to grab it, trying to pull myself towards it; my fingers grasp air. I hear the silent shriek of lightning. All I can do is scream good-bye, and then I am catapulted into complete blackness.