"Elena?" A broken voice called out in the darkness.
"I'm here, mother." Elena spoke in a whisper. Even being 6 years old, Elena understood the fragile state her mother was in. Her mother, Seraphina, had been bed ridden for the past two weeks. Elena could see how it pained her mother to even speak. Seraphina had been adamant that Elena draw all the drapes in the cottage closed, leaving them in darkness.
Elena lit the candle by her mother's door and set it down before walking over to her bed and sitting down next to her. Her mother's sickly, pale face came into view. She could see a thin layer of sweat covering her mother's face. Elena quickly retrieved the damp rag from her mother's bedside and dabbed her face with it.
"I need you to fetch some milk from the market for me. It's not far. Do you remember how to get there, angel?" Elena hesitantly nodded. Seraphina faintly smiled and outstretched her hand. Elena took the coins her mother offered her, kissed her forehead and turned to leave. "Wait, let me just look at you." Elena turned towards her mother, confused by her behavior. She slowly walked to her mother's bed and took her hand.
Seraphina weakly reached out with her other hand and ran it through Elena's unruly waist-length, blonde hair. Her mother's lips turned up into an almost there smile and a single tear rolled down her gaunt cheeks.
"Are you in pain?" Elena's worried voice drew her mother from whatever thoughts she seemed to be having. "No, angel. Go on now. Take your time at the market. Before you leave, bring that candle over here by my bedside table." Elena did as her mother asked and walked towards the door. She didn't want to leave her mother alone in the state she was in. Just as she was turning the knob of her mother's bedroom door, Seraphina called out to her once more.
"I love you, Elena. Never doubt that. Always remember that you're strong. I'll always be proud of you." By the end of Seraphina's speech, she was out of breath. "I love you too, mama." Seraphina slowly relaxed back into her bed and shut her eyes. The last thing Elena saw before she left was the faint smile, gracing her mother's features.
***
Elena quickly walked the path back to the cottage her and her mother shared. She felt a tad guilty for not taking her time at the market like her mother asked her to. She ran the whole way to the market and almost threw her money in the merchant's face before taking the milk and sprinting back home. Elena was growing tired and sat on the trunk of a fallen tree to catch her breath.
She stared at the familiar trees looming around her. Elena couldn't remember a time where she's ever been scared of the forest surrounding the cottage. The children from school would always tease her about where she lived, saying that the humans would burn the trees down which would catch the little cottage on fire. When Elena told her mother, her mother simply laughed. She told Elena that they would see the burning trees from the cottage, if there ever was a fire. The cottage sat in the middle of a clearing and her mother said that the burning trees wouldn't reach them before they had a chance to escape.
Thinking of her mother always brought a smile to her face. The smile quickly faded when Elena remembered that her mother was sick. She sat up and, this time, walked at a normal pace back to the cottage. Elena took this time to admire her surroundings. She loved it here. She smoothly inhaled the air around her. She loved the smell of the trees and leaves. She especially loved the smell of wild flowers in the air. Elena suddenly came to a halt. She couldn't smell the wild flowers. She inhaled deeper this time and caught the scent of something else - smoke.
It's happening. The kids in her school were right, the humans are trying to burn down the forest! Elena broke out into a sprint, she has to warn her mama. "Mama!" Maybe her mother would hear her from here, she's not too far from the cottage. "Mama!" Elena goes as fast as her tiny legs can carry her. Finally, she breaks through the clearing. The sight she stumbles on breaks her heart. It's not the trees that are on fire - it's the cottage.
