The angel and the lightning rod

Phase 3

High shelves filled with food were awaiting us behind the door. We laughed out of pure luck. So much food!

I looked through the crates full of fruit, and stuffed a peach and an apple in my pocket for later.

Nate almost disappeared between the shelves and reappeared beaming, holding a watermelon.

"Would they have cookies?" I wondered.

Nate searched the shelves intently. Then his face lit up. "They have éclairs!"

I started to salivate. "Can you reach them?"

He jumped and tried, but could only tap the box.

I laughed. "I'll get them, tiny friend."

"No! I can do this!"

He took a leap and put his feet on the shelves. The cabinet began to wobble dangerously, but he didn't notice.

He stretched out his fingers to the éclairs when suddenly he looked up – and his eyes widened in terror.

I followed his gaze and saw a large barrel, just above my head, swaying and falling from the top shelf of the closet. I could barely comprehend that I had to dive away, when the barrel came crashing down. Before I knew it, I got pushed to the side.

I heard a dull thud, a smash, and a rustling noise. A sharp pain shot through my shoulder when I hit the stone floor.

Gasping for air, I lay on the tiles. Nate lay beside me, still. The tub got cracked and the floor around us was littered with rice.

"Nate?"

I crawled over to him, but he didn't move. His eyes were closed. Did I imagine it or did he look pale? Could it be the lighting?

"Natey?"

I put my hands around his face in hopes he'd wake up.

"Natey," I pleaded. "Shit!"

My hands were covered in blood when I pulled them back from Nate's head. My sight went black for a second.

No, I told myself sternly, stay calm. I took a deep breath and looked around for something to stop the bleeding. I couldn't find anything.

Don't panic. Breath. In and out.

My shirt. I took it off and put it carefully under Nate's head. "Stay with me, baby. Do you hear me? Say something. Open your eyes. "

I concentrated on my breathing.

There was blood, coming out of my friend's head. That was not good. He needed help from someone who knew about bleeding heads ...

Emergency number. I grabbed my phone and dialed. Luckily, someone speaking English told me I reached the European emergency number. Relieved, I told her what happened to my friend and where I was. I only knew the name of the camping site and the city, but apparently that was enough.

Meanwhile, I had my free hand on Nate's face, as if that would keep him alive. Could you die because a load of rice fell on your head? It sounded silly, yet here I was, holding my dead friend.

No. Not dead. Right? I was so scared.

"Don't die."

I had to get a teacher.

But I'd be in serious trouble when they saw this. My stomach ached with worry. If I got out to get someone, I had to leave Nate here all alone.

But I couldn't do this on my own. Someone had to point the ambulance where to go while I stayed with my mate as long as I could.