Amara

May 14, 2012

He woke up coughing. Smoke was billowing through the door to his room and he was already starting to sweat. Adrenaline pushed him out of bed and into the hall. The smoke was coming from downstairs. As he pulled his t-shirt collar up to cover his nose and mouth, he crouched his way down the staircase. Without hesitation, he bolted outside and breathed deep in the night air. “Where is everyone?” he said to himself.

In a panicked state, barefoot in the yard, he began to realize that no one else was with him. His father’s absence was nothing new, but it was the fact that his mother wasn’t already outside that worried him.

The searing heat and the second floor groaning under its own weight told him to stay put and call for help. He could hear the sirens coming from across town. Suddenly, his father pulled up into the driveway and stepped out, mouth open in disbelief. “DAD!” the boy cried out, and ran towards him. The passenger door swung open and a tall blonde woman stepped out. She was gorgeous, and looked like she had just hastily put her blouse back on. Wide-eyed with terror, the boy shouted, “Where’s Mom?” His father, still just standing there, shrugged. The roof had caught now, and flames licked the inside of the upstairs bedroom window.

Without a word, she dropped her coat and bolted towards the front door. You could just make out the father’s plea, “Amara, wait” before she disappeared inside. Ten. Fifteen. Thirty seconds passed and all you could hear was the sound of the fire churning the inside of the home into ashes. Thirty more seconds and they heard a wailing inside: it was the mother!

Tears streaked lines down the boy’s soot-caked face as he saw her come out. The blonde emerged from the smoky doorway carrying his mother in her arms. The EMTs had arrived and they took the unconscious woman into an ambulance. That was when the boy noticed the flames still dancing on the blonde’s shoulders and arms. She patted them out with her bare hands without as much as a flinch and he looked at her in wonder as she stood there, her flesh as flawless as when she first got out of the car. Their eyes met and she put a finger to her lips to quiet him. With a wink, she walked off behind the ambulances and they never saw her again.

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2 Responses to “Amara”

  1. RC Says:

    The unconscious is a powerful force….maybe I know too much but you write from your heart, don’t you?

  2. Michael Says:

    Generally, yes. 🙂


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