Hang On

Shards of shattered glass rained down on me like a razor-sharp snow-storm as I ducked my head down, feeling pin-pricks of pain in my hair and on my neck and shoulders. Above, the fireball rolled out into the night sky, scorching my skin. I heard piercing shrieks rising above the rumbling roar of the explosion. My grip tightened on the window frame and I bit my lip to stifle the cry of pain as the jagged stumps of the broken pane dug into my skin, but nothing could ever make me let go. I glanced down, my stomach knotting with terror at the sight of the ground hundreds of feet below my flailing feet as they scrabbled to find purchase on the side of the building. Blood trickled steadily from my punctured palms; I knew I would soon have to endure the agony of pulling myself into the shattered structure. A loud groaning made me look up, my eyes widening as I saw the building leaning drunkenly above me, slowly folding over me like a wave of steel and glass. Safety was within reach, only if I could stomach the pain.

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