Flames

Marie stood in the kitchen of her small home. She mindlessly prepared a dinner for three, paying more attention to the news blaring from the living room than the chicken spinning in the rotisserie oven. Picking up a spoon to stir butter into the corn on her stove, she sighed at a story some reporter was announcing.

“The four and seven year old boys were found nearly twenty-four hours later at their father's house. The father, on the other hand, was no where to be found. Police investigator...” Marie shook her head at the man's report.

“Of course they were with their father! That should have been the first place checked! What is wrong with police these days?” She shouted matter-of-factly at her loud television.

The timer beeped and Marie shut the oven off before using an oven mitt to pull out a tray of crescent rolls. She then used a spatula to move them from the tray to a small basket which she had set on the dining room table.

“The boys say that the father left them in the house alone so that he could go grocery shopping.” The man said quite disgustedly. “Experts say...”

“What a shame.” Marie murmured to herself as she turned off the burner underneath the pot of corn. She brought the pot to the dining room table and set it on top of a pot holder to keep it from burning her table.

As she made her way into the kitchen to take the chicken out of the rotisserie oven, the door bell chimed.

“Just a second!” Marie called while she rushed to take the oven mitt off.

Upon opening the door, she was greeted by her excited daughter and weary husband.

“Mama!” The small girl hurried into her arms and greeted her mother with a kiss.

“Hello Anna.” Marie smiled warmly and held her daughter in her right arm. Then she turned to her husband.

“How was your day, sweetie?” she inquired happily as he closed the door behind himself, making sure to lock it.

“Well, I'm gonna have this job a lot longer than I expected.” He beamed at his wife who set their daughter down.

After Anna rushed into the living room to plant herself on the couch, Marie led her husband into the kitchen. She looked at him, a look of confusion and surprise swept across her features.

“Why, Nate? What happened?” She asked quickly.

“There was a leak found in one of the lower pipes, and they need welders.” Nate stated proudly, spreading Marie's lips into a bright smile.

“That's great, Nathan! I'm so happy for you! How long so you think you'll be on this one, now?” Marie moved to the rotisserie oven once again to set the knob in the off position.

“I'm not sure yet. The boss man said he would get back to us within the next two weeks with more information.” He replied, pulling the chicken out and removing it from the silver rods stabbed through its chest.

Marie took out a large plate to set the poultry on and a knife for her husband to use to slice it into meal-sized portions.

“Dan called me on the way home, too. Said he'd heard something about a job opening. I won't have to go away for this one either, sugar. It's close to home, too.” Nathan pulled Marie to his chest and kissed her softly on the lips. She smiled and went to set the table.

“Anna, darling! Come help mama set the table!” She called into the living room.

“Okay, Mama!” her small footsteps echoed softly, just loud enough to hear.

The small family sat in the dining room enjoying their homemade dinner, making conversation as a family normally would. The television still echoed throughout the small house along with the occasional clank of a fork on a plate.

“How was your day at school, Anna?” Marie questioned her daughter casually.

Anna held up her small index finger to indicate she needed a moment before picking up her little glass of sweet tea with both hands and tipping it to her lips.

“It was good, Mama! Miss Anderson started teaching us cursive today!” Anna beamed at her mother who listened intently.

“Is that so? I bet it was loads of fun!” Marie slipped a forkful of chicken into her mouth and eyed her husband.

“Did you eat all of your lunch today?” Nathan continued his wife's questioning, more or less following her lead.

“Uh-huh! I liked the sandwich Mama made for me! It was peanut butter and banana!” The petite girl picked up her buttered crescent roll and took a small bite.

“She made you a peanut butter and banana sandwich? Oh no. Now I want one.” Nate winked at Marie who blushed and silently giggled, holding her hand over her mouth.

“How about I pack you one in your lunch box tomorrow, then?” Marie suggested, grinning across the table at Nate.

“I'd like that.” He grinned right back at her.

---

A horrid beeping filled Marie's sleepy ears. Her hand smacked at the alarm clock for a brief instant. When it didn't shit off, she sat up to examine the clock more closely.

“What's going on? Marie?” Nate sleepily propped himself up on his elbows to see his wife.

A sickly feeling of dread filled Marie's stomach as she realized that the beeping was not her alarm clock. The scent of black smoke filled their bedroom. She shot out of bed and pulled on Nathan's arm.

“We have to get Anna and get out of here!” She explained frantically.

“Wha-” Nathan began but was cut off.

“Fire, Nate!” Marie opened her bedroom door and a wall of smoke slapped her smooth face.

“Marie Don't! I'll get Anna!” Nathan leaped out of bed and moved Marie aside. “You go out the window!”

“But Nathan-” Marie began but Nathan cut her off by crashing his lips onto hers for a brief second.

“Go!” With that he disappeared into the hallway.

Marie immediately rushed to the window with tears in her eyes, a result of the collection of smoke in the room. She pulled the curtains back from the glass and ripped the window ajar. Her hands met the screen, and she pushed slightly. She cursed under her breath and jerked the screen open enough to slip her thin frame through the window.

Outside, she ran a safe distance away before turning to gaze at her home. Flames stretched high in the night sky like hungry claws, reaching for the silent moon. Soon, fire trucks arrived on the scene and she was pulled farther from her family and given an itchy blanket.

“Ma'am, is there anyone inside?” A tall man with a deep, almost raspy voice demanded.

Marie nodded her head desperately.

“My husband and our daughter!” She managed to choke out through the sobs that ripped out of her chest.

The man nodded and the team went to work.

Marie never saw Nathan and Anna emerge from the burning building.

---

An agonizing scream ripped through the silence of a sleeping home. A woman ran to the source to find a dark haired woman crumpled up into a pile on her bed whimpering and sobbing.

“Marie!” She rushed to the bed to comfort her sister. “It's okay! I'm here for you! Did you have another nightmare?”

Marie glanced at her sister and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. She trembled uncontrollably, her bare legs pale as well as her thin arms.

“I-I'm fine... Just go back to bed. I-I'm going to get a glass of water.” Marie's mousy voice was just as shaky as her porcelain limbs.

“Are you sure?” Her sister yawned.

“Y-yes. Go back to sleep.” She urged and carefully rose to her feet.

“Okay. If you need me-” Marie cut her off.

“I know. I-I'm fine.” she pushed past her sister and wandered into the kitchen.

Marie filled a small glass with water and sipped silently, thinking to herself. The sound of her sister's bedroom door closing echoed throughout the tiny home. The small cup gleamed in the soft light that found it's way through the lone window in the kitchen.

“I can't take this anymore.” Marie whispered to herself, finishing the last sip of water before rinsing the cup and setting it in the dishwasher.

She made her way back to her bedroom and closed the door, being sure to lock it. A small dresser sat in a corner of the room. Marie went to it and opened the top drawer silently to dig around underneath her clothing. She pulled her hand out, revealing a rope. Then she stepped onto her bed and tied the rope around the secure ceiling fan.

Marie's lifeless body hung from the rope like a weary Christmas tree ornament. Her fragile appendages dangled freely in the air as if she were a rag doll. Her heart ceased to beat, finally free of the despair of her loss.