The Burning City

• Jordy Littlewood-johnson, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2019

The world lit up for one horrifying moment as God unleashed his fury upon humanity, except this wasn’t an act of God. This was enacted by mankind themselves. A plane had dropped a small bomb on that city, a bomb that cracked reality in half and unleashed hell itself. A wave of suffering had shot out, burning the strongest of houses, turning people to dust and sending ashes into the wind like a flaring storm that ravaged through the burning city.

The soldier awoke, pain and exhaustion rampaging through his body. His eyes stung as he opened them. He had to squint to see. The sky was filled with hellish red smoke that vandalized the sun, making it look like Satan himself. The solder blinked. He smelt blood. Broken wood stabbed at his legs and pinned him down. He struggled to push them away, forcing himself free with all of his remaining energy. The wood crashed to the ground and sent out clouds of dust, making him cough. His uniform, once brightly coloured, was now torn and covered in ash. The symbols had faded, as if the honour they represented had been ripped away from him. He sat in a pool of blood and choked on the black air as red ashes rained down from above. And he cried, for nothing mattered anymore, and nothing would ever matter again.

Suddenly he heard a whimper. A cry for help. His head shot up and the tears flew away. His hair was a dusty mess, and his eyes stung of ash. He heard the cry again. Trembling, he pushed himself off the ground. One step forward. Then another. He stumbled forwards, one step at a time, hoping that this was just some cruel nightmare that might soon end. All around him there was screaming and burning and that blood- smeared smoke that suffocated the sky. He moved in a daze, unaware of his surroundings, just knowing he had to save this person, just this one. He didn’t care about anything else.

He found the pile of rubble that the sound had come from and fell to his knees. His throat pleaded for a drink and his body begged for a rest, but he ignored it. His arms flew at the rocks, digging through them as if searching for something lost that was more important to him than anything else in the world. The rubble cleared to reveal a small girl, covered in ash. She coughed and shook in coldness and fear. Upon seeing the soldier’s uniform she flinched. Her shining, innocent blue eyes reflected an image of him, and in it he could see a monster. He bowed his head in shame. A long silence hung between them.

Eventually he scooped her up his arms. He trudged forward, carrying the girl away from the rubble and the burning and the ashes. He felt her head rest against against his shoulder. Her skin was warm. Together they left Hiroshima, the burning city.