‘We need to get out, but how?’ I heard a voice stutter. The meaning of his question was lost as it rushed straight in one ear and out of the other. My attention was no longer present in the burning building. My mind was daydreaming back to a time when my life was normal.
‘Want a cuppa, honey’ Elena said. It felt weird that everything seemed to carry on as normal. She didn’t have a clue what was going on. As I sat there guiltily I tried to force myself to love her more. It wouldn’t work. To me she was like an old bashed up car and Elena was a sleek, shiny, modern Ferrari. I told myself to love her more. I took her for granted; but that didn’t stop me from going to Marisa’s house at 8.
As I lay in bed for the second time that night, but with a different woman, I contemplated my life… I was filled with dozens of emotions but guilt surpassed them all. That’s what I truly felt; guilty. The thought of what I’d actually done seemed to overthrow me again. How could I have done that to the love of my life? But was she honestly the love of my life, because had she been then why would my mistakes seem so right, and my marriage seem so wrong? It felt like I belonged in Marisa’s arms, she made me feel mushy emotions and my heart smouldered when I saw her. Even the thought of her made my heart thud. My mind started to daydream about when I could see her next. ‘NO’, I told myself. It came out so abruptly and fiercely that I questioned whether I had actually said it aloud! I couldn’t let it happen again. I had to resist the temptation and her beauty that drew me in every time. She took my breath away but I had a wife…and I needed to remember that!
An abrupt voice, and a sudden sense of burning, brought me back to reality. A reality that didn’t even seem real! It had been going well until they brought out my cake. 32 of my closest friends and family had gathered at my house to celebrate my 50th birthday. I’d even invited Marisa and told me wife she was just a friend from work. We’d been seated around a massive table in the kitchen, when my wife, Elena, brought out a massive chocolate cake covered in 50 brightly lit candles. As the congregation sung ‘Happy birthday’ to me, my wife imitated to me to blow out my candles. I tried but couldn’t get them all out in one. ‘Make a wish, Johnny’, Elena cheered. I tried to blow them all out again, but failed. Kindly, Marisa leaned in close to me and puffed with me. As we blew the ones on the furthest side out, everyone started to cheer! All the candles looked snuffed out, but when Marisa pulled back, to stand up straight, her hair swished against the candle nearest to me. We all watched in slow motion as the candle seemed to relight itself and a strand of her hair caught fire. We all seemed to be paralysed stationary, as we watched in horror.
Marisa ran out of the room.
‘Where’s she going?’, cried Elena.
‘The bathroom’, I screamed.
‘But she doesn’t know where it is’, gasped Elena.
Unknown to Elena, Marisa had been to the house before, and used the bathroom…
‘I’ll show her where it is’ I said to try and comfort my shocked wife.
When I found Marisa in the bathroom, I watched her, dazed. The cool, calm persona had disappeared and her sultry smile had vanished. Shivering and frightened, she looked like she was on the edge of sanity. She was standing in the shower with the curtain open, frail and cold. She’d gone in with clothes left on and her make-up was washed down her face. I stepped into the shower to give her a hug and she gradually let herself loosen in my firm grip. Scared she grasped my arm as if she’d never let go. In her fragile state, she still managed to hold me with such ferocity, I knew she loved me. If only I’d have met her a few years earlier. Suddenly Elena, was in the doorway staring at me. She thought she’d got the wrong idea, with us standing there hugging semi-naked and wet. I guess she’d got the right idea though! Elena started turning red. That seemed to shake Marisa out of her terrified stupor. She practically ran out of the door. I heard a car door slam closed and then tires skidding down the lane. Elena looked at me again and then flounced out of the room. I heard the door band shut and she also sped off in her car.
On my way back downstairs I smelt burning. I followed the smell to my kitchen. When I got closer to the door I realised the smell was definitely coming from inside the kitchen. Smoke seemed to be seeping under the door towards me. Thoughtlessly, I opened the door and walked in to a sight of horror. The kitchen was black and burnt. Flames were smouldering everywhere and smoky tendrils of pain seemed to reach out and grab me, chaffing my skin. Bewildered, I took a step towards the window. The movement seemed to rock the floor, causing the fridge to start to wobble. Stupidly, I leant towards it, ready to hold it up. The fridge began to tremble and it fell on me…Words can’t describe the pain that shot through my body. I couldn’t move. I was trapped…
I tried to get up but I fell back, concussed. Somewhere in my mind, I registered hearing a scream. But I couldn’t move to reach it, I seemed to be paralysed. As I lay there, half asleep I realised that I mustn’t be alone if someone screamed. From above me a friend seemed to shout out ‘scream your names out so that we know how many people are trapped…’ his voice seemed to get forgotten in a sudden movement in the right side of my eye. Another part of the ceiling had fallen through.
‘Is everybody alright?’ the voice spoke again.
‘Florence Avalos’
‘Maria Espina’
‘John Illanes’
‘Johnny Barrios Rojas’ I shouted out as loudly as I could, another scream was heard, but everyone carried on saying their names.
‘Carlos Mamani’
‘Jimmy Sanchez’
‘Carlos Barrios’
A lot of other names were said but my ears seemed to blot them out as I realised that my brother was in the fire too. He was in danger. And it was my fault. I had counted the names of all my friends and family who were stuck, 33 people; including me.
I kept dazing off into a concussed state. Every time I woke up I hear my friends reassure themselves and others. A couple of the men were able to move freely around the house as it wasn’t obstacles that had trapped them…it was heavy bricks and parts of the ceilings that had fallen; blocking the front and back house exits.
For a few days the able men brought us food from the cupboards and they also helped put out the fire and tried to clear the smog. One of my closest friends Ticona Ariel’s wife was due to give birth; as he couldn’t escape and be with his wife, he watched the birth of his daughter over my brother’s iPhone. He cried with happiness and laughed with joy. That’s what they decided to call her, Joy. Joy Poppy Olive Ariel; a name of peace and tranquillity. And that’s exactly what she was. Joy was a peace offering to Ticona’s wife, who was lost in loneliness and fright.
Eventually we ran out of food and the fire-fighters had to send us food, drink and messages through a pipe, leading from a small gap in the bricked out windows to the bedroom.
After 69 days of terror, not knowing whether I’d ever leave the house alive, the escape shaft was finished. Fire-fighters were able to rescue us through a small toilet window. The fittest people went first and then the injured, mentally or physically. I was the 23rd person to be rescued…
When I got into the open air, outside, I was given an oxygen mask to help me breathe. Both Elena and Marisa were there and as they ran forward to kiss me, I realised that I was the luckiest man alive. Elena suddenly figured out what I’d been up to as she seemed to put the pieces together in her mind. It had taken the one piece, me kissing Marisa, to collaborate it all in her head…
Thankfully because of what we’d been through she forgave me! I guess you could say I’d learnt my lesson, but you don’t know about Luisa yet……….
