I was never one to write a diary. There never seemed a reason big enough to compel me to write my thoughts, but today that changed. A record should be kept of the day the world stopped.

It was a Wednesday like any other, I had woken up before my alarm and all morning I'd had a bad feeling so I was in a sour mood. My thoughts were lying on the paperwork that awaited me and the faint taste of coffee still in my mouth, when the rocking of the subway and its grating on the rails came to a sudden, smashing halt.

All that rang in my ears was the tearing of metal and a howling wind as I watched the front parts of the train collide with a collapsed portion of the tunnel. I held on for dear life, too shocked to scream, though others did that for me, as our little cabin grew closer and closer to joining that wreck. 

WHOOSH! I was pulled from my seat, our section had stopped, the last one. The thoughts of relief had no place to enter my mind yet, as that ungodly howling, as if a hurricane had erupted in my ears, took up all the space. I curled up, my hands clasped over my ears in pain begging it to stop, as it slowly settled and calmed.

In some ways the deathly silence that came next was worse. 'Everything has changed, hasn't it' was the first thought that went through my head (at least the first coherent thought that wasn't a string of swearing), and looking up I could see a similar shock and apprehension in the eyes of my fellow survivors that doubtless was in my own.

The murky silence was quickly shattered by a loud shout, "What the bloody hell was that!?". Looking up I could see the yeller, he was a, let's say well built, man in a stained white t-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap with an arsenal logo on it.

Clutching onto his arm was a woman with a yellow sundress and sunglasses, held in her other arm was a toddler with a similar cap to his presumed father, no older than three. After breaking the silence, cries started to arose from the other passengers, "Was that an earthquake?", "We need to call the police", "Oh my god we need to get those people out from the wreck!".

I could only stumble to my feet and glance around in bewilderment. "Thank god, I'm alive" I muttered under my breath. I don't know if I should feel shame for my selfishness in immediately thinking that, but it is the truth.

"Settle down!", a shout came from the back of the carriage "A tunnel collapsing on a tube like this won't go unnoticed, Professionals who know what to do should be here shortly, and moving about will just do more harm than good, so let's all relax and take a breath".

The words arose from a well dressed man in a beige tartan suit and trimmed moustache. His air of confidence and cutting voice did little to dissuade the growing pit in my stomach. He seemed to know what to do in an emergency, sure, but I felt it in my bones, this was far more than a normal emergency.