Synced
I. Cry
Breath in, breath out. I chanted the words repeatedly to myself.
These were the days I lived for. The days where a sheet of clouds blocked the sun's heat from making me sweat and a light breeze graced my exposed flesh. The lush green growth below me tickled my cheeks and limbs. I shut my eyes, closing off my sense of sight and relying only on touch.
Good old Alberta, Canada. I was beginning to finally forgive my aunt for dragging my brother and I out of the states.
I suppose she couldn't help it though, I thought, a sudden gray cloud sitting over my head. My stomach clenched and I shut my eyes tighter, as if that could suppress the memories.
"Roza, Christian, get out of the house NOW!" my mother yelled through the flames at us. I had stopped, seeing her trapped in her room, the fire blocking her way out. I panicked, sifting through my mind to come up with a plan to get my mother out.
My eyes were burning and my head was pounding like a drum. Suddenly I couldn't hear and it was as if my whole body went numb. My mother was screaming, but I only saw her lips moving. The flames roared and reduced everything in their path to ash, but all I saw was the magnificent colors raging all around me. Orange and yellow and gold engulfed me as the flames performed their dance of destruction.
I was mesmerized.
"Come on," my older brother grunted, snapping me back to my senses as he heaved me up and started to run out of the house with me.
"MAMA!" I screamed and thrashed at my brothers arms to let me go. "No! NO!" I fought against Christian but his muscles flexed and held me like an iron bar cage. My last look at her were of those hazel eyes that held concern only meant for her children and not for her own life.
It's been eight months since the fire. The firemen came in time to put the fire out before it devoured the majority of the house. They told me my mother didn't die from the flames, but from inhaling the toxins in the smoke.
My father had died from a car crash three months earlier, so the only relative that left us with was my mother's sister. Christian and I called her Crazy Cathy for the reason that whenever she came down to visit, she always seemed to be in hysterics, whispering furiously to our mother while casting us intense looks.
We couldn't stay in our old house, so we moved out of the country with Crazy Cathy in her little cottage in Canada. But I grew to like it here. It had become my personal haven. Perfect weather, perfect scenery, and—
My thoughts were interrupted by an ear-shattering noise unrecognizable to me. My eyes shot open. It definitely wasn't human, but it couldn't be an animal...
The cry cut through the air again, forcing me to spring up from my lounging position on the ground. I looked around for the source of the noise. When I heard it again though, it was definitely closer to human than anything else. I jumped to my feet and starting running in the direction I heard it from.
"Where are you?" I called, looking around the long stretch of land surrounding me. Cathy's cottage was built on a grassy hill and I was now running down the slope, skidding to an abrupt stop at the sight in front of me.
These were the days I lived for. The days where a sheet of clouds blocked the sun's heat from making me sweat and a light breeze graced my exposed flesh. The lush green growth below me tickled my cheeks and limbs. I shut my eyes, closing off my sense of sight and relying only on touch.
Good old Alberta, Canada. I was beginning to finally forgive my aunt for dragging my brother and I out of the states.
I suppose she couldn't help it though, I thought, a sudden gray cloud sitting over my head. My stomach clenched and I shut my eyes tighter, as if that could suppress the memories.
"Roza, Christian, get out of the house NOW!" my mother yelled through the flames at us. I had stopped, seeing her trapped in her room, the fire blocking her way out. I panicked, sifting through my mind to come up with a plan to get my mother out.
My eyes were burning and my head was pounding like a drum. Suddenly I couldn't hear and it was as if my whole body went numb. My mother was screaming, but I only saw her lips moving. The flames roared and reduced everything in their path to ash, but all I saw was the magnificent colors raging all around me. Orange and yellow and gold engulfed me as the flames performed their dance of destruction.
I was mesmerized.
"Come on," my older brother grunted, snapping me back to my senses as he heaved me up and started to run out of the house with me.
"MAMA!" I screamed and thrashed at my brothers arms to let me go. "No! NO!" I fought against Christian but his muscles flexed and held me like an iron bar cage. My last look at her were of those hazel eyes that held concern only meant for her children and not for her own life.
It's been eight months since the fire. The firemen came in time to put the fire out before it devoured the majority of the house. They told me my mother didn't die from the flames, but from inhaling the toxins in the smoke.
My father had died from a car crash three months earlier, so the only relative that left us with was my mother's sister. Christian and I called her Crazy Cathy for the reason that whenever she came down to visit, she always seemed to be in hysterics, whispering furiously to our mother while casting us intense looks.
We couldn't stay in our old house, so we moved out of the country with Crazy Cathy in her little cottage in Canada. But I grew to like it here. It had become my personal haven. Perfect weather, perfect scenery, and—
My thoughts were interrupted by an ear-shattering noise unrecognizable to me. My eyes shot open. It definitely wasn't human, but it couldn't be an animal...
The cry cut through the air again, forcing me to spring up from my lounging position on the ground. I looked around for the source of the noise. When I heard it again though, it was definitely closer to human than anything else. I jumped to my feet and starting running in the direction I heard it from.
"Where are you?" I called, looking around the long stretch of land surrounding me. Cathy's cottage was built on a grassy hill and I was now running down the slope, skidding to an abrupt stop at the sight in front of me.