December 11th, 2005
I was awoken this morning at six a.m. by the sound of a very loud noise which sounded like something rather large and heavy had hit my bedroom window. Many thoughts raced through my mind; a storm, a bomb, a place crash? I went to the window and peered outside and saw nothing on the horizon. My mind settled on the thunder from a storm theory and I crawled back into bed.
Around about half past six my mum came into my room and said she had also heard the sound and that there was thick black smoke in the sky. At that point many of the neighbours were out too and the news told of a possible plane crash. It turned out however that the explosion had happened at Buncefield, a fuel depot.
I was meeting some friends in London later on and as I travelled down on the train I went past the site, the thick cloud of black smoke was more prominent than ever and followed me all the way to my destination. Even when in the city, wisps of the black smoke were visible.
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