|
The past of the fire (read Fire Blessing first) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
I ran forward to Papa, who was calling me closer to him. His gloved hand rested on my hand. Even through the glove, he was warm. Papa was always warm. He bent down and told me quietly. My eyes widened. This was impossible. I ran from him, ran to the house, where Mama was. I ran and I ran, as fast as I could, to Mama's room. Impossible. To her bed. She lay there, silent. I dropped to my knees beside her. Her head tilted, in the slightest of ways, toward me. Tears filled my eyes. She whispered to me, comforting me, telling me it would be alright. I wish I could tell you that I ran with Mama through the fields the very next day. I wish I could tell you that we played together. I wish I could tell you that she laughed with me, and gave me advice when I was lost as to what I should do next. But I never lie. I sat beside her until the final moment. I did not eat. I did not sleep. I stayed by her side as she always would have done for me. I could not accept it. It was impossible. Papa's gloved hand rested on my shoulder and pulled me from her. Her eyes were shut in sleep. That was all it was. She was asleep. She couldn't die. How could she? She was Mama. Mama can't die. The next day, she was buried. I couldn't accept it. It was impossible. I screamed at the grave diggers. I screamed until my throat was sore, then screamed more. Papa's gloved hand was all that kept me from beating them. The grave diggers looked at me with sympathy showing so clearly in their eyes. Don't feel sorry for me, I screamed. Not me. Mama. Not me. Papa tried to stop me, but I would not be hushed. I screamed and cried, kicking at the icy dirt below. It was the other cities' fault. They were the reason Mama was there, buried in the earth. The people all left. Papa walked away from me, not even glancing over his shoulder at me. I thought he was warm, but at that moment, he was stone-cold. I ran to the grave and tried to dig with my fingers through the snow and ice and dirt. My fingers started to bleed, but I didn't stop. She couldn't be dead.Papa's hand touched me again. The cities are to blame for this, he told me. I can give you the power to do to them what they did to your mother. He removed his glove and smiled at me, placing the bare hand on my shoulder. Warmth ran through my body. All the ice melted, the dirt below me burned. I realized that he'd never touched me before, not without his glove. So this is what fire feels like, I thought. I'd never touched fire before, like I'd never touched Papa. Papa was fire. I smiled for the first time in my life. My smile was fire. I was warm for the first time. I looked at Mama's grave. Papa knelt down to whisper in my ear. I always follow orders. I walked onward to the first city in my way. The cities brought chemicals that had poisoned our village's environment. The sky had been blue, once upon a time. I walked on, destined to burn, Papa's message burning itself into my mind. I was fire. Don't be afraid.
FN Pixie · Tue Apr 22, 2008 @ 04:18pm · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|