A Campfire Of Comfort

• Rosanna Matten, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2011

Everyone was huddled around the campfire for comfort, freezing in their wits. The night hung over them like a black blanket, suffocating them, blocking out any chance of daylight. There were even no stars or a slither of a moon to soothe their weakening hope.
The forest that once surrounded them was now non-existent. It had been ripped from the very heart of the ground as the tornado had torn through on its path of destruction. No homes, no people, nothing but miles and miles of obliteration lay around the few remaining survivors that huddled around the campfire for comfort.
No sleep was to fall upon anyone; they were still too shocked and too observant of the stationary scene taking place around them. Sleep seemed like a distant dream everyone wants but cannot reach. To sleep would be to forget what happened on this summer’s night. To sleep would mean to dream about another place of hopeful adults, of giggling children, a community of bright and intelligent students with beautiful homes and families to return to once their day of knowledge gaining had finished. But even their campfire of comfort couldn’t take away the hollow feeling accompanied by the dream of sleep.
Not a single existing soul knew what tomorrow will bring. They didn’t know if they’ll still be alive or whether God will welcome them into his loving embrace and deliver them to the realm of heaven, reuniting them with their lost lovers and siblings and kids. Right now, death seems like the easy way out. But all they have is each other and their campfire of comfort.
Nobody knows what will happen when their last flame of comfort dies down. Nobody knows. But what they do know is that they can depend on one another and they’ll fight for each other right until the very end. But while the future is waiting, for now, they still have their campfire of comfort.