Red or Blue

You ignored me when I asked,
about the progressive cracks,
told me, I could go back down,
scratching coins from the filth around.

I felt the tremor, sensed the risk,
as concrete splits and metal twists,
through garment rolls and splintered doors,
my body smashed neath several floors.

As I lay broke I heard her voice,
she asked her friend about a choice,
what looks best the red or blue?
I closed my eyes and broke on through.

Sarah had always been the sensitive type; she seemed to pick up signals that most people missed. It was her 17th birthday and she was in Primark with Rebecca, trying to find a cheap dress ready for a night of binge drinking that had now become a rite of passage for her and her friends. Laughing she held up the red and blue dresses and asked Rebecca which one she preferred. The motion caused her head to spin and she began to feel faint, she tried to steady herself by focusing on the material in her hands. In this dizzy state her mind began to play tricks, there seemed to be images projected within the fabric. She saw buildings crumbling, faces, women and children bloodied as the concrete and steel folded in like a house of cards. The images were only fleeting but they unnerved her. ''Are you ok?'' asked Rebecca, ''Yes I just need some air'', she said, making her way to the door. That was the first time she heard it, very soft at first like someone talking in an upstairs room, she couldn't make out what was said and asked her friend if she had heard it, of course she hadn't. Three days the voice stayed with Sarah, becoming clearer each day, she could sense the pain and suffering, night times always seemed to be the worst, partial dreams that left her with a deep feeling of despair always the same words over and over, help me, please help me!, the voice sobbed. On the third day the voice stopped. The evening news showed rescue services pulling a young girl from the rubble of a Bangladesh garment factory disaster, Sarah could feel their hands on her body.