My first memory was far from pleasant.
It haunted my childhood, always lurking around the corner, always following like shadows in the night. All to remind me of that one night; the memories would sneak up at the most usually times, all triggered by the smallest of things.
I remember the fire and the screaming and running.
Fire licked and tasted everything, from the dead bodies to the ones that ran. The fire leapt and danced, leering at its victims, snarling and laughing. It was always one step ahead of us, moving ever so fast, like the beast it was. The fire was starving, hungry for meat, lusting for death. Smoke rose, thick and dark, seeping stealthily across the village, cloaking everything in a mist of darkness.
The fire turned the corpses to ashes; they withered and crippled and ceased to exist. Burnt hands grabbed desperately to those around them, lashing out to anyone running past. Cries of pain and weeping echoed, every plea was worthless, every prayer unanswered. The bodies littered the ground, some dead, all agonized. Their lifeless eyes bore into the fire; the enemy, the beast, the monster. Screams pierced the crackling air that tore the night sky apart, singing of pure pain. The fire ripped everything apart; it destroyed my life.
***
I was the only survivor.
Only at the mere age of one, I was only starting to crawl and mumble words, curious with the unknown. Learning about the world where happiness actually existed- only to find it to come tumbling down.
I was whisked away to the orphanage, far away from the remaining ashes of where I used to live. I grew up frustrated with the world, angry with myself that I couldn’t do anything, that I was so helpless. Nightmares lurk in my sleep while questions haunt me while I’m awake. What were my parents like? Questions fill my head, every single one left unanswered.
The orphanage was kind to me, and I think to myself that it could’ve been so much worse. They provided me an education and a roof over my head; they never asked for anything in return and I’m glad they didn’t. What if no one had found me? I would be defenceless, left to die among the smothering ashes of the dead.
Now eighteen, I return.
The village was just how I imagined it; every building was left in ruins with odd trees and bushes growing out of them. Animals had taken inhabited of the homes, not a single soul was found.
There was nothing left.
“Asha?”
I nodded, numb.
“Are you okay? I know it’s hard to take it all in....”
I nodded again, staring at the remains of the village, remembering the fire that blazed and people that burnt. The homes that scorched, the shouts and the cries. My head throbbed.
***
“Arthur, take her! TAKE HER!”
The women screamed, her hair matted and sticking to her face streaked with bloody tears.
“I can’t- I can’t go without you!”
The women gave a banshee wail, scraping at her leg trapped under a blazing table. She clung to her burnt leg, screaming in frustration. The fire crawled over her body, sinking its teeth in her leg, gnawing at it till it was raw. The flames bit at her arms, licking and tasting, a carnivorous beast. Her face was blackened; blood dripping off her chin, her eyes were panicked and scared.
“Please Arthur! Leave me, it’s too late! Please, PLEASE!”
The man wiping his own tears mixed with sweat and blood, his arms trembled and his heart shook. The women held out her hand, he took it and held it with his own. On his knees, he cried. The women stared at him with her wild fiery eyes, beautiful even when she was near death. The flames snaked up her body, cloaking her face in heat. The man let go of her hand, screaming. She looked at him with dead eyes as he rose and ran away. The man didn’t turn back, for he was too scared of what he might see.
In his arms, he held a baby.
***
“Asha? Asha! You’re shaking!”
Cluthcing my head, trembling, I wept. The man in front of me sank to his knees, his brows knotted with concern. He wiped away my tears and ran his fingers through my hair, pulling me towards him. His chest was warm, as his arms circled around me. He smiled, making me melt into him as he took my hand and kissed every knukle. Looking at me with those exquisite golden eyes that radiated of sunshine,with the fire that never burned out.
Then there was a spark in his eyes, as if he finally found an answer to all my questions. He tiltied his head, like a bird, curious.
“Your name means hope. You’re the last hope.”
Hope. The only emotion stronger than fear.
