Schoolgirl Lost

Schoolgirl Lost
Schoolgirl lost in Arctic 'comes back from the dead' after dodging brown bears and wolves for TWO WEEKS
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Svetlana Evai, 15, lived on water and unripe berries as she wandered aimlessly around the tundra in the extreme north of Russia trying to find her way home
A teenage girl lost in the Arctic has 'come back from the dead' after surviving for more than TWO WEEKS on just water and berries.
Svetlana Evai, 15, managed to avoid bears and wolves as she wandered around the remote area in north Russia trying to find her way home.
The schoolgirl’s survival has been hailed a “miracle” as it also emerged she survived freezing temperatures overnight while she was only seven miles from her family home.
From a nomadic family of reindeer herders, Svetlana got lost and disoriented on a four mile walk from her summer camp to visit her brother.
A rescue team arrived on the remote Gydan Peninsula - one of the most remote spots in the world - after three days - but it took another 12 days to find her despite being only a few miles away.
Hope had been running out for finding her alive with night temperatures dipping to freezing point in the late summer.
Her family feared she had been attacked by brown bears which were seen roaming in the region.
In the end her uncle found her suffering from exposure but “walking towards him”, said her aunt Irina Yar.
“When she went missing, people were worried because the bears are roaming very close,” said one source.
She was airlifted to hospital by a search helicopter, reported The Siberian Times .
The girl survived on wild cranberries, black and red currents, and cloudberries - which were mostly unripe.
Despite suffering from exposure medics said ‘her vital organs are safe’ and ‘there is no threat to her life’.
“Her blood pressure and heart beat are stable,” said Eldar Faradjev, chief doctor of Tazovsky central hospital.
During her ordeal, temperatures veered from almost freezing at night to a high of 27C.
But she got wet in the thawing permafrost, suffering leg and knee injuries from crawling.
She was “constantly trying to find her way back” but was unable to do so.
Senior doctor Alexander Bukharov - an expert in polar survival - said it was a “miracle” she had been found alive.
Head of the search Vitaly Pavlyuchkov said: “It helped that there was a lot of water in the tundra, so she had no problem drinking.
“The Gydan tundra is soaked with water.
“When you walk along the tundra in summer you are almost knee-deep.
“She ate berries, and they are not completely ripe at this time.”
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A 13-YEAR-OLD girl who almost lost her arm after becoming impaled on metal railings had her life saved - by her fluffy JUMPER.
Poppy Elsey was climbing on top of a wall while playing with her friend when she lost her footing and fell onto a 5ft steel fence.
One of the spikes skewered her left arm leaving Poppy panicking that she "couldn't get off".
Her brave pal Molly managed to lift Poppy off the railings and helped her onto a bench while a woman passerby dialled 999.
Paramedics scrambled to The Ice House at Ayscoughfee Gardens in Spalding, Lincs., after the freak accident on September 12.
Poppy was rushed to hospital where she underwent four hours of surgery including a skin graft.
Luckily, the impact of the fall was softened by her woolly jumper which doctors said probably saved her arm if not her life.
Brave Poppy has now issued a warning to other youngsters tempted to climb on The Ice House which is a popular 'hang-out' place for teenagers.
Recalling the moment she fell, she said: "The pain hit as I landed on the fence. Then I panicked as I couldn't get off.
"Molly lifted me off and I saw there was lots of blood. I took my jumper off and looked at my arm and the shock hit me.
"It has been the most horrendously painful week of my life and I'm still in lots of pain now.
"So I just want to urge people - please do not climb on top of The Ice House."
While ambulance crews dashed to the scene Molly called Poppy's mum Katie, who arrived to find her daughter lying on a bench being comforted by a member of the public.
It has been the most horrendously painful week of my life and I'm still in lots of pain now
Her dad Mark also raced to the scene.
Katie, 35, said: "I stayed calm purely to keep Poppy calm but I was gobsmacked to see how bad the injury was.
"I was relieved when I knew she could move her fingers.
"We fully appreciate that Poppy was in the wrong - she and Molly shouldn't have been up there.
"But youngsters are adventurous. Poppy just slipped as she was getting down.
"If there wasn't an arrowhead, her injuries wouldn't have been as life-changing as they are. Luckily it missed an artery.
"I dread to think what might have happened otherwise.
"At the end of the day it's our job as adults to protect our youngsters from doing silly things and they don't need much of a deterrent to stop."
She also praised pal Molly's "amazing" reactions and thanked the woman who helped at the scene.
Poppy is now on morphine to help with the pain and is unlikely to return to school at Spalding Academy until November.
Her family are now urging South Holland District Council to have signs warning of the metal fencing to help prevent further injuries.
A council spokesperson said: "We are aware of the incident at Ayscoughfee Gardens and are in contact with the family involved.
"We take the health and safety of visitors extremely seriously and will be investigating the matter further."
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Now schoolgirl lost leg in Jashore road crash

Benapole (Jashore) Correspondent daily-bangladesh.com
Acting Editor: Rejaul Karim
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Dhaka, Thursday 22 September 2022
Dhaka, Thursday 22 September 2022
Published: 01:39 PM, 20 March 2019

At around 8:30 am on Wednesday, a jeep car hit the three-wheeler van carrying the schoolgirl in the market. In this, the leg of the seventh-grade student named Nipa severed.
In the meantime, another seventh-grade student Smriti and ninth grade student Ripa was severely injured. Later, the locals and the students school, college blocked the road.
The victim Nipa, the daughter of Rafiqul Islam of the Burujbagan village of Navaron.
Mokaram Hossain, Navaron Pilot Secondary Girl's School Headmaster said, “While going to school on Wednesday morning, a jeep coming from Jashore hit the van carrying three schoolgirls. In this, three students dropped out of the van. Later, the jeep speedily ran over Nipa’s leg. As a result, her legs were cut off from the body. The seriously injured Nipa and two other students were admitted to the local hospital.”
Sharsha UNO Pulak Kumar Mandal, Upazila Chairman Sirajul Haque Manju, Sharsha Police Station visited the spot.
“It is very sad and tragic events,” said UNO Pulak Kumar Mondal.
Headmaster Mokarum Hossain demands the trial of the driver on charges of reckless driving.
Students and residents of Jashore-Benapole highway are protesting by blocking the road and demanded a speedy trial of the incident.
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This experience is integrated into the fabric of my being, a bend in the road of my sexuality.
I am more than a survivor . I am resilient. I thrive in my life.
This event, being raped at 12 years old, was one turn in the long and winding road back to myself.
This is the story of how I lost my virginity against my will.
I was 12 years old, the summer before I turned 13.
I had recently moved in with my father, after years of conflict with my mother. It was early summer, nice enough to be outside but not oppressively hot. There was no camp or summer vacation for me that year. The summer was spent hanging out in the neighborhood, around the basketball court.
I was not particularly interested in making girlfriends in this new neighborhood. I was looking for thrills, excitement, cigarettes, attention—anything to keep me away from the pain of being me, of being alive. The intoxication of intrigue and sexual desire had already become a drug for me. I hadn’t had sex yet (other than a few kisses and childhood sex play with peers). The euphoria that I felt from obsessing about boys, fantasizing about sex, and being in love was satisfying my need to escape reality.
When this boy/man (let’s call him “Dicky”) talked to me and showed interest in me, the sensations in my body felt good. I felt good about being alive in that moment. He had never really paid attention to me before. He was older and sexy with his beautiful skin, thin, muscular body, and big lips. He had no heart, he was cold as ice, and this may have been the most attractive part of him.
I wanted to be that—cool and hard and invulnerable.
His attention gave me a little cred with the other kids at the basketball court because of his tough-guy reputation and his criminal enterprise. This attention and cred was giving me everything I thought I needed in life: the euphoria of attention and a place to belong.
My father was new to parenting, but he knew enough to give me a curfew (maybe 9 p.m.). As my curfew approached, I knew I wanted more of this good feeling—the perfect weather, the cigarettes and pot, the feeling of belonging and being special. I decided to ask my dad if I could stay out later.
I went in to find my dad and his friends sitting around on the floor playing cards. I asked him if I could go back out, and he said yes. One more hour.
I went back to the basketball court for more Marlboros and more of the good feelings. Too soon, my hour was up and it was time to go home again.
This time, Dicky walked home with me; my house was just a few blocks from the basketball court. My front door was actually a gate to an alleyway that led to a back apartment.
He kissed me at this gate. I woke up inside. I didn’t really like how wet his kisses were, but I liked being physically close to him and feeling his desire for me. I decided to ask for more time so I could get more of this. He waited at the gate for me while I went in to ask.
My dad and his friends were still sitting around on the floor playing cards. The apartment was filled with smoke. There were beer bottles, money, ashtrays, and cards arranged neatly around the circle.
My dad knew what I wanted. He was always seemed to know what was in my head. He said I could have one more hour.
As soon as I came back out, Dicky had his mouth on me. He was more forceful now, pushing me against the wall next to the gate. I felt the bricks pushing into my back.
I started to feel more conflicted now, not liking the way he pushed into me or his wet kisses that now felt almost like he was drooling on me. I was still enjoying the feeling of being touched in a way and feeling his desire for me. (I am not making a euphemism for his erection. I mean I enjoyed the energetic feeling of his desire for me.)
He whispered in my ear, “Do you want to get fucked?”
I liked the feeling of his hot breath in my ear, but I froze with fear, because I did not like the tone of his voice. I thought I liked sex (from my imagination, masturbation, and the games I had played as a little girl with my peers) and looked forward to playing with someone whom I loved.
I was pretty sure that’s not what he meant when he asked if I wanted to get fucked. I was pretty sure he wasn’t asking, either. I couldn’t speak.
He whispered, “Have you ever been fucked? I think you want to get fucked.”
Still I couldn’t answer. I was frozen with fear inside.
I know now that when the nervous system detects a life threat, there are three possible reactions: fight, flight, freeze, or some combination. At 12 years old, my nervous system had been habituated to freeze in the face of danger.
He was not really asking anyway; he didn’t need an answer . He had decided that he was going to fuck me no matter what my response was.
He started to lead me across the street, heading for a patch of grass behind the I-95. Moving my body snapped my mind back, and I knew I did not want to go with him. I turned to walk away from him, back to my apartment.
He grabbed my arm and yanked me back to him. He easily picked me up, holding my arms against my body and carrying me like a baby. I squirmed and kicked. Now my words came back.
The fear and the guilt and confusion set in, the defeat. The certainty that I had made a mistake and now I was going to pay for it. I once again froze.
He carried me to the hill behind the I-95. The highway was across from our house in Queen’s Village. We were literally four lanes away from where my father was winning at poker on our living room floor.
I don’t think I tried to run before he put me down the grass. I had surrendered to the guilt and defeat and was now in freeze-survival mode. He held me down with the weight of his body and his hands.
Then the panic returned, and I struggled to get free. He was crushing me with his body. He pulled my underwear down enough to get access and so that they became a restraint, holding my legs together so that I couldn’t kick him.
As he tried to push inside of me, it hurt and I felt as if I was suffocating from the inside out. I held him away with one hand I had free, but he was stronger than me. He just kept pushing into me.
I wasn’t strong enough to hold him back.
This is the part that remained the clearest in my memory. I have seen this memory from many angles over the last 34 years—sometimes crystal clear, sometimes opaque. The memory of my hand on his hip pushing him away, the feeling that my greatest effort was useless, has always been crystal clear. I prevented him from crushing me and from fully entering me, but not from penetrating me and totally overpowering me.
Eventually, it was over. He came on my belly. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever seen in my life.
I made my way home, stunned, dazed, crushed. Full of guilt, remorse, shame. I walked into my house to find it empty.
This empty house was and has been a defining moment in my life. My father and I were close emotionally. I believe that if he had been home that he would have known something was wrong, and he would have been my father. Dicky would be dead or in jail. Probably dead.
As it was, I was left alone to integrate this experience in such a way that I could survive and go on. I took a shower and went to bed.
By the time I woke up, my guilt, shame, and fear were buried. I convinced myself that I had not been raped , that I had sex willingly, and I now thought of myself as an adult who was going to pursue sex at every opportunity.
I buried the parts where I was afraid and had resisted. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had made a mistake that I had to pay for. That feeling haunted me through a life-threatening drug addiction, into a life of recovery, and sometimes still does. I survived by making sense of this experience in a way that allowed me to feel in control of my life and sexuality and move on.
The twists and turns back to the full experience of that night are another story.
Today, a little over 34 years later, I am thriving.
I have embraced vulnerability, authenticity, and life. I do not live or think of myself as a victim or even a survivor.
I think of myself as a human being living my life.
Blakey Hastings, LMT, C-IAYT has dedicated her career and life to serving the path of human awakening. A lifelong student of yoga and survivor of a life threatening addiction,… Read full bio
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