24 Hours Left

• Hannah Noonan, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2018

I can’t say what led me to light the match. But when the fire began to blaze high into the night sky, I relished the warmth it emitted. The energy around me seemed almost frantic, and the trees that sparked flames sizzled from the sudden heat. The fire danced up from the barn and began to burn everything in its path. My rage was absolute, although I could feel it diminishing along with the original flame. But it didn’t matter. The fire had caught onto enough trees and wooden cabins to spread farther. I briefly considered the ramifications this stunt may receive. That didn’t matter, either. I already knew I’d be gone before dawn.
My anger coursed through me in waves, though I had no idea what I was mad at. As I ran, I cursed some faraway part of me that ached to help resist the fire with the others back at the camp. Unfortunately, though, I knew my fate if I returned. So, I continued pursuing the city, where I could blend in and become an insignificant dot. I knew I hadn’t made it more than a kilometre away from the area, so I allowed myself to look back. Smoke clouded the first hints of dawn, and I watched the flames travel rapidly along the forest. I tore my gaze away, and I never again dared to look back.
It was evening the next day by the time I crested the mountain that would let me observe the city. The lights shone brilliantly, but I didn’t take much heed of its beauty, as I was weak. The forest seemed to go on and on, and I hadn’t seen a safe river in miles. The possibility or fainting grew stronger with every step, and the urge to give up came in floods. This was it, I thought. I’d made it this far, only to give up. I sought out a quiet tree to rest in, when the edge of the city came into view.
I drained what little energy I had left, and I sprinted. I felt incredibly dizzy, just like I had when I lit the match. For some reason, my survival made guilt form a lump in my chest. What if the fire had taken the lives of innocents? I reached the city and collapsed. I was so tired. I am Marina Slade. I always chanted my name when I was afraid. I approached the nearest building and fought to keep my eyes open. It did not take long before my world went black.
I thrashed against the weight of what I had done. Panic settled in my stomach. I had awoken, but not in peace. What had I been thinking? I had caused the ancient camp to turn to rubble. What of the people lying inside the lodges? I could no longer blame my fury on my parent’s deaths. A picture formed in my mind — my wooden cabin, covered in ash and alight with flames.