The Cold Flame

• Jonathan Tan, Grade 12, Sutherland Shire Christian School
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

A candle sat disempowered and dull in the middle of a wooden table in the centre of a cold, dark room. The window was open, and the wind gushed through, blowing the flame from the candle viciously to the side. It became a small speck of light, almost hidden by the darkness that the night had brought. The gale calmed after a few minutes, becoming only a gentle breeze. Snowflakes fell silently to the window pane, and formed a thin layer of snow. The candle flickered in the breeze briefly, before a sudden gale force knocked it over forcefully. The small flame became nought but an ember upon the table. The wind continued to blow violently, pushing the snow inside the room, which disseminated upon the wooden floorboards. The ember was propelled powerfully against the candle, spreading as quick as time itself across the table. Multiple embers were flicked onto the candle, and it burst into flames. Without further warning the flames leapt upon all four corners of the table, and began to burn it. Smoke billowed from the window as the fire raged inside the building. Voices sounded from within the building, anaemic under the fire’s roar. People hurried out onto the streets, staring blindly through the dark. They stood at a distance with horror stricken faces as a family of four stumbled out of the building just before it collapsed in a heap. The fire continued to burn their house until it was reduced to rubble. Coughing and spluttering, the family trekked through the thick snow, with fellow town folk aiding them. The youngest member of the family, a girl who looked no older than five, staggered to her knees and began to cry in between coughs. A woman rushed to her side and carried her out of the vicinity, following her parents and brother, a boy of eight or nine. They were brought into another family’s home as a healer was sent for, and after hearing of the catastrophe and racing to them speedily, the man treated their burns and left them to rest peacefully. Terrible screams had echoed throughout the valley, over the power of the storm, forcing the owls to take flight. As people hurried around, attempting to put out the fire quickly, the prisoners that were supposed to be guarded escaped the dungeons through passageways they had begun to dig many weeks before, fleeing the town whilst the guards were distracted with all the commotion. Mist covered the town, blinding the prisoners as they made their escape, but also providing the perfect cover for them. Screams filled the night sky as people began hurrying around in search of relatives, calling out for them and never hearing a response. This night would be implanted in their minds forever.