Fighting Fire with Flame *Revised*

1. Now

The ambulance lights painted flashes of red and blue on the rain-soaked streets as paramedics worked tirelessly to stabilize their mother. Ka'Mya and Yari stood to the side, eyes fixated on the unfolding scene, their world forever altered by violence at the hands of their father.

"I don't feel a pulse!" one of the paramedics yelled to the other.

Ka'Mya and Yari looked at each other with desperation and sadness in their eyes. They clasped their hands together as Ka'Mya said a silent prayer. After the paramedics could do all that they could in the home, they loaded their mother onto the gurney on her stomach, leaving the knife still lodged into her back. After she was secured safely on the gurney, they placed her into the ambulance. The sisters watched as it sped away, leaving echoes of urgency in the night. The police had come and gone, taking statements and photographs, leaving the girls to decipher the cold reality of an empty house still stained with their mother's blood. Once filled with loving hums and the smell of greens and sweet potatoes in the kitchen, the home now felt distant and cruel. Mya noticed the bottle of polish still on the floor where she had left it once her father had beckoned for her mother. She gently lifted the brush and closed the bottle as a single tear fell from her eye. It was her mother's favorite polish. She had allowed Mya to use it since she would be attending their school's annual Winter formal next week.

Raindrops tapped on the windowpanes like whispers and the distant wail of sirens lingered, an ominous reminder of the tragedy they couldn't escape. Yari's voice, almost a whisper, cut through the silence, "Mya, look at this."

They stepped into the dimly lit bedroom, once a sanctuary now tainted by the stains of a shattered family. Empty liquor bottles littered the room like the aftermath of a storm. Ka'Mya hadn't noticed the mess before when she closed the window earlier. Now, it seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. The sharp scent of alcohol hung in the air, a bitter reminder of their father's presence before the chaos unfolded.

Ka' mya traced the outline of one of the bottles with a numb gaze. "He was drunk... again. Damn, why can't he just stop?"

Yari's eyes mirrored the pain in her sister's voice. "He never cared about us. Never. All he cared about was his liquor."

Ka'Mya found her mother's iPhone on her bedside table and scrolled through the contacts. She located a name on the phone as Gretchen Harlow (Mom). Ka'Mya knew that her mother and grandmother weren't close, but it was worth a try. She actually knew very little about her mother's past life but knew that she and Yari couldn't survive on their own.

With trembling hands, Mya dialed their estranged maternal grandmother's number. The strained conversation that followed was a formal exchange of condolences and acceptance of assistance.

"So, Diane met her end at the hands of Kevin, huh? I always warned her about that good-for-nothing son of a...." the voice on the other end of the phone spoke with an elegant, yet pompous tone.

".... yes, about an hour ago. He disappeared; and fled through a window right after" Ka' Mya explained, uncertainty coloring her words, unsure of how much to disclose.

"Hmm. Sounds like something he'd do. He's never been good– neither for Diane nor you girls. Nevertheless, I offer my condolences. I have ample space in my home, but there will be rules. It's been years since I had teenage girls around," her grandmother's voice conveyed deep contemplation.

"I appreciate your condolences. I offer my condolences... too?" Ka' Mya hesitated, sensing that her grandmother might not be aware of her loss.

"Oh no, dear. There's no loss on my part. I lost my daughter years ago. She was about your age when I lost her. She was pregnant with you at the time, and I wanted to give you both the world," her grandmother's voice carried her away, lost in memories and reflection.

"Oh.." Ka' Mya uttered, grappling with the weight of the revelation.

"Forget all that. I'll be on my shortly. I assume Diane was still in the same home Kevin held her hostage in when he took her from me. It will take me about five hours to get there. Please be packed and ready. I do not plan on sticking around long," she demanded, and with that, the call abruptly ended.

Ka'Mya realized that they did not know much about their maternal grandmother. She was never in the picture when Ka'Mya was born. She realized that they never knew any of their maternal relatives. As they awaited their grandmother's arrival, the sisters began to pack essentials into small bags. The walls of their childhood home seem to close in on them, each room whispering memories tainted by violence. They exchanged few words, the weight of grief hanging heavy between them. They grabbed photos from their mother's room and baby photos of themselves that decorated the living room walls.

The sisters moved in tandem to the melancholy rhythm of the rain outside the home. In the dim light, Ka'Mya caught a glimpse of the Christmas tree, now a haunting reminder of the night that had shattered their world. Yari zipped up her bag, her movements methodical, yet there was a vulnerability in her eyes that mirrored Ka'Mya's uncertainty.

Their grandmother remained a mystery, a mystery they were about to confront. Ka'Mya couldn't shake the nagging question of why their mother had distanced herself from her side of the family. The revelation that their grandmother agreed to the distance from their mother added even more mystery and frustration that she couldn't pinpoint.

As they packed, Ka'Mya found herself drawn to a small box tucked away in the corner of her parent's closet. Inside were fragments of a life she once thought she knew– a family photo album, old letters, and a worn journal. Each item, Ka'Mya presumed held more explanation of why her family ended up the way that they did.

Yari's voice broke the silence, "Ka'Mya, do you think Gramma cares about Mama? About what happened?"

Ka'Mya signed, wrestling with the same uncertainty. "I don't know, Yari. We're stepping into the unknown here."

Yari stopped packing her things and sat down on her bed. "It's just not fair, you know? Life is just able to be determined by the hands of anyone at any time." 

"Yeah, I know," Ka'Mya nodded, "but life isn't fair."

The room fell silent. After a moment, Yari looked up, determination in her eyes, "We'll make it through, Mya. We always have."

Ka'Mya managed a small, grateful smile. "Together. We stick together."

With that unspoken pact, the sisters resumed their packing, each item folded with a mix of nostalgia and a sense of detachment. As they prepared to leave, the room held the remnants of a chapter closing.