The evening prime time news were preoccupied by chain reaction of emotional news. Battlements of steam truck and cranes. Yellow tapes cautioning the excavating areas, cable and electric generators supplying the areas with lights were everywhere. And bodies; alive and dead, unconscious, were escorted from the wrecked piles of scraps and concrete.

Satellite trucks stood-by, assorted teams of journalists were looming around with cameras and microphones, doing what they do best; digging news. Police enforcement teams were restless too, walking up and down, collecting loose documents and harvesting items that might be useful to identify personal information – IDs, driver’s licences, cell phones, bank cards, shopping cards, wallets, handbags anything helpful.

Toll free lines were always displayed at the bottom of TV screens for searching families. Survived taxi drivers were reaerating the calamity with dramatic tension and exposing their sorrows of losing friends. Taxi owners were on site too, dramatizing the issue from their point of view.

“Our taxis are crashed like tin cans. Scrapped beyond repair… And now we have to worry about how we are going to support our children,”

“I bet most of our taxi drivers didn’t have funeral policies, and Metrorail should definitely compensate them,”

“Accident? It’s more like negligence to me. How can a train run at such speed while carrying passengers? Metrorail must be sued! It must pay for damages!”

The news wasn’t filled with grief only but threats from affected communities who indirectly promoted vandalism against Metrorail trains.

*****

It was a few minutes after midnight and Philane suddenly flinched out of sleep. He expected a rattling noise of deteriorating metal sheets and iron rims, but instead, it was a normal noise of crowded people. He blinked several times until his sight stabilized. Then he lifted his heavy head into a sitting position.

Looking around, it was busy. Victims, like himself, were all sleeping on the grass and attended to by different persons. It was inside a huge erected tent with light bulbs on. Philane noticed few staff members with name tags and clipboards running around, nurses, they were taking names and contacts then giving first aid medication to the victims.

Some victims were fortunate enough to be visited by their families or relatives. And some were all alone.

Philane examined himself… No shoes, only socks on his feet. Aside him, his greasy white shirt was folded, shoes next to them. He was only wearing a vest. He quickly snuck his trouser pockets and, what a relief to have his cell phone. He grabbed it with fingers and tried more than 3 times to power it on, but the screen remained blank.

“Hello, what is your name?” an exhausted female voice asked.

Philane took a deep breath and responded with his name.

“Do you have anyone we can contact?” asked the nurse.

Philane nodded, but his memory couldn’t recall his mother’s cell number.

“No problem. I am a doctor. Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes. The train… What happened?”

“You were involved in a very serious accident. You should thank God you’re alive. Do you feel any pains?”

“I don’t know. Yes, No. I- I just feel tired and I need to go home, that’s all.”

“That’s what most accident victims feel. However, there could be internal bleeding, cracked bones and post-traumatic disorder. I have to sting you with some injections and will also give you painkillers,” she addressed him as she randomly palpated Philane’s body from skull to his toes.

“I am fine, just feeling tired.”

The nurse vanished for few minutes and returned with medication, the injection and two tablets of painkillers with a bottle of water.

“My phone is off, and I think I blacked-out ‘cause I can’t recall my mom’s phone numbers.” Philane said.

The nurse said nothing, but pasted a white sticker over Philane’s chest. It was a mark for all medicated survivors. The nurse walked away without saying anything or giving that friendly look, but vanished at the entrance tent. Philane ignored her strange behaviour and kept his thoughts on his family.

Suddenly, he felt dizzy and drowsy. His body temperature started to rise rapidly. His heartbeat accelerated. Panting, sweating, his lips dehydrated and his throat felt so dry. His whole body started to shiver like cold. A slight headache…

Philane’s heart dreaded heavily as he realized that it was the injection that caused all these abnormalities. Immediately, his eardrums lost hearing and felt like there was water inside his ears. Something warm dripped from his nostrils. He wiped it using back of his hand and noticed that his nose was bleeding.

***

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