In The Fire

• Manas Joshi, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2021

The frail golden wheat fell against the wrath of my sickle when abruptly the ultimate power of sheer heat and destruction entered the edge of Miro’s conscience. He gazed up fearfully and saw a raging conflagration. Miro sped away but the inferno dragon caught up to me like it was being pulled by a magnet. Enveloped by the sea of death, he witnessed the destruction of only home and heritage destroyed in a heartbeat.

Lifeless and merciless, the corpse of my animals was left shriveled and burnt. Defenseless houses and their charred prey stood no chance in this war of demolition. Ashes littered the ground as the fire swept away, the embers jumping in this dance of death. My hands, legs are mildly burnt. It feels like nails raining down on my back. As the inferno beast disappeared I stared at my burned livestock, charred wheat, and grey ash-filled sky. The world around me felt like a dumpster. My jaw gaped open at the destruction, my hand sizzled in humidity. I did not know what to do. There were blisters between my toes, walking felt like pins and needles.
As Miro frantically ran across the bushfire devastated land he remembers the times before the ruthless firestorm. Instead of smoke and ash dancing in the sky, the sky then was a clear blue. Instead of crumbled buildings and houses, buildings and houses stood majestically instead of cries of grief there were shouts of laughter and giggles.
Miro’s energy slowly depleted as time went on, as he started to slow down he found a half-shattered mirror laying on the charred road. He stopped and examined himself, Miro’s jet-black hair was frizzy and displaced, his sea-green eyes water from the residual heat and his once-perfect skin was engulfed with redness and blisters. Miro internally sobbed as he cried at what he had become. It was now time of dusk, light itself was fading away into darkness. Miro limped until he found others he could refuge with.

As he limped forward the cries of children and people coughing from the smog rattled his ear. A sharp pain began to emerge on the right side of his neck began to slither to his right eye like a serpent.
He slowly put his hands down for support and just laid in agony. His thoughts and memories came rushing back like a fierce wave. Miro’s head began to throb as I contemplated each memory, my hands began to go numb and my body began to feel weightless. My eyes twitched until they closed into a dark void of nothingness.