«Jump down, I’m ready to catch you.»
It took more than a while to convince her to jump from the window, down on the wreckages of the building that used to be in front of ours. I’m lucky because I’m a tall guy, and it takes a while to jump 3 meters and a half, but she is smaller and afraid like hell.
I’m surrounded by a carpet of stones, bricks, gas tanks, iron, glasses. Surrounded by destruction. I got no time to think what is happening around. I got to be focused on her, jumping from the window. She decided to jump and I caught her in my arms. We are almost safe.
Therefore, I heard them.
Screaming loud. I could not recognize from where those screams were coming. We lost our phone and we were focused on finding it. In a second, I understood. They were under the wreckages. Asking for help. Trapped under what remains of their building.
Powerlessness. I felt nothing but powerlessness. Voices were coming out of three meters of wreckages and I could not do anything to help. Used to help everyone in every way possible. In that moment I could not do anything else but try to calm those voices down.
«They are coming! Calm down, they are coming!»
Was I right or wrong? Was I giving a bit of hope or making it worse? Could I do more? Did I do whatever I could do? The only thing that I know is that I started to call and tell everyone.
«They’re trapped there, send someone, they’re trapped there!»
Police. Firefighters. My mother. Friends. People in the closest square. My blog. I called and told everyone.
Few hours later, some news said that four guys have been extracted alive from that place. Few days later, I could verify that also the guys that I heard screaming were seriously injuried, but alive.
I heard their voices for a long time. I felt the powerlessness for weeks. Even today, if only I think about that moment, I feel helpless. But I have a wish and, if it comes true, I may calm down my fears and my feelings.
All I wish is to look those guys in the eyes, apologize for not doing more that I could do and hug them to feel that they’re there, alive, not screaming, smiling and happy.
This is all I wish, every April 6th. Every time that I speak about the earthquake. Every time that I think about that night. In short, every day.