Feeding The Flame

• Rebecca Kriesler, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2012

The pain was so intense; I couldn’t scream or cry out, I felt a weight crushing down on my lungs, stoping my breath. My mouth opened wordlessly, and when it finally gave way the sound was somewhere between a sob and shriek, it was raw and piercing, I couldn’t cry, my eyes had run out of tears what felt like a lifetime ago. I fell to my knees, huddled in a tight ball, shutting out reality. It didn’t make sense to me, I kept thinking there was a mistake, it wasn’t true and that someone would come rescue me; but nobody came, and eventually I retreated from my ball, unfurled into a world that no longer made sense. I called out in hope that someone would answer, that by some miracle they were still alive, somehow. I was met only be the cold reply of silence. Sometimes no answer is the worst answer there is.

I didn’t understand. I saw it right before my eyes, I’d seen them before, but now that I was affected, the very idea of them alluded me. What I saw in front of me, was a blazing wall of fire; darkness and smoke consuming the battered remains of a house, my house. Ash clogged and burned my throat and my eye stung. Finally, I found my eyes wet, as tears welled up and cascaded down my cheek, with it came the echo of my sobs magnified by the silence.

Finally when the fire was out, they allowed me to look around, salvage any of my possessions but there was nothing. All that was left was rubble, my house, so bright, so filled with colour, was now black and covered with soot. Only burnt shards remained, I searched for something, anything from my world that remained when everything else had caved in, suffocating me. I ran my hand along the soot stained walls, books, jewellery, clothes, they all looked the same, remains that disintegrated like dust in my fingers. Fire was the ultimate equalizer, no matter what it is, it all burns the same.

All I needed was one little thing to remain untouched by the flame, one piece of hope to cling to; but the fire had consumed everything. I allowed my legs to crumble beneath me, lying on the ground; my tears formed a small puddle. The tears washed away the soot and I saw a hint of colour. Eagerly, hoping against hope I hadn’t imagined it, I brushed away the ash and shards that piled above it. And sure enough, in the sea of black, a single photo, untouched by the flame. It was my parents, nothing special just a moment in time when everything was alright, they were staring at each other, and the world around them faded in the background, pale in comparison to their love which burned brighter than a flame.