Trapped ( Zarobljena prevedeno na engleski jezik )

2. Ominous silence

- Evangelia! - her mother's ringing voice echoed off the crumbling walls. - Get up! The sun is already high in the sky.

The girl jolted out of her daydreaming. She always daydreamed with her eyes open before getting up and starting her day. Thoughts fluttered through her mind like flies. She returned to that joyful moment when she was given her own room. She had to admit that sleeping was better now.

The sharp sound of her name made her neatly organize her thoughts and close them off. She didn't like being addressed by her full name; it was too long for her taste.

Her name comes from the serbian word for gospel. That was the only name her mother wanted for her first child, a beautiful daughter. Religion and the Bible had played an important role in her mother's life for as long as she could remember. She was wholeheartedly devoted to it. So it was no surprise that she gave her children names with religious connotations. Gospel represents the good news, Matej was named after the apostle who wrote one of the holy scriptures, and the name Bogdan is derived from the expression "given by God."

As a child, she would soothe her to sleep by reading the Bible to her or talking about heaven. The mother didn't know how to tell her any fairy tales like her father did because she didn't believe in them. So she told her about heaven.

- It's the most wonderful place you can imagine. There are angels and the Almighty Himself. There, nightingales sing forever, and there are forests and beautiful flower meadows everywhere. The song of the nightingale, those divine birds, is heard eternally. They sing to Him.

- Mama - asked five-year-old Evangelia. - How do you, or anyone else, know what heaven looks like when you haven't been there? The one who sees heaven is dead and cannot talk - she concluded with her sharp mind.

The mother flinched, tapping on the ancient book: - Don't think like that, Evangelia. It's all written here; there are people who see and know much more than others. The most important thing is that only the good and righteous go to heaven. There are no ugly thoughts or words there. Everything is peaceful because eternal love and prosperity dwell there. That's why we strive our whole lives not to do evil, so that one day we can go to heaven.

Evangelia no longer asked anything about heaven since then. She believed her mother's words. In her mind, she tried to imagine her version of heaven, where nightingales wouldn't sing, but the melody of a violin would be heard forever.

For some reason, Evangelia was recalling all of this.

- Have you finally gotten up!? - her mother burst into her room without knocking.

- Knocking - Evangelia said, braiding her long hair. - This is now just my space, isn't it?

- You, cheeky girl, I am your mother!

- Mom, I was just joking - the girl replied with a sigh.

Her mother often wasn't in the mood for jokes. She approached everything with a serious tone. After braiding her hair, she picked up her violin from the floor and placed it under the bed.

The violin, alongside her family, was Evangelia's greatest love. Her grandmother taught her to play when she was only seven years old. That old violin made of dark wood with finely carved edges belonged to her grandmother. She passed it on to Evangelia the day before she died.

- I don't want her to remain silent in my grave forever. Let her continue to sing with you - she whispered with the last remnants of her strength.

She remembered how she mourned for her grandmother. Since her death, she had started playing the violin only at night. When everyone went to sleep, she would leave the house, go to the plum orchard, and play. She didn't know many compositions, so she made them up herself. She intertwined sounds and connected them into a harmonious whole. Evangelia believed that her grandmother in heaven could hear her playing and knew how much she missed her.

Still lost in memories, the girl stepped out of the house. She almost tripped over something at the threshold. She bent down and picked up a bouquet of chamomile. Her mother gave her a meaningful look. They both knew it was from Milos.

He left her chamomile at the doorstep almost every morning because he claimed her hair always smelled like it. And that was true; Evangelia had been rinsing her hair with chamomile tea for years, which made her brown strands shimmer like gold in the sunlight.

- Don't let me catch you two fooling around in the meadow up there. I would be embarrassed in front of the village.

The mother said sternly, but with a hint of playful teasing in her voice. She liked Milos, that hardworking and handsome young man. She was glad he had chosen her Evangelia, but she didn't know that Evangelia in her heart had not chosen him.

- Mommm...- the girl said, rolling her eyes. She placed the bouquet on the table, no longer knowing what to do with all the chamomile. - We're not doing anything even close to that.

And that was the truth. As soon as noon came, instead of going home for lunch, Milos would hurry to the meadow where Evangelia was tending the sheep. He carried food in his bag and shared everything with her. The girl was genuinely touched by his gesture, but she took very little of his food. He worked hard, and he needed it more than she did. She told him not to bring a meal for himself anymore, but he didn't listen. He persistently came, making a picnic in the meadow of his own accord.

When he had eaten everything he brought, he would lean against a tree and twirl a strand of Evangelia's hair around his finger. The girl knew that the boy longed for her to lean against the tree beside him and that more than anything, he wanted her to rest her head in his lap at least once. The fire in his dark eyes revealed all of this. He couldn't hide his raw, youthful desire. The girl didn't respond to any of it; she just sat silently and coldly beside him, half-turned away while he ran his fingers over the nape of her neck. Milos was very much aware of her strange coldness. He had never seen a sparkle in her eyes nor heard a sigh for him like he had from other girls in the town. But that was precisely why he chose her, that cold beauty with shiny long hair, delicate figure, and amber-colored eyes that intoxicated him. He loved challenges and knew she would be his. He firmly believed that he would completely win her over in marriage.

Evangelia was sitting on a stump, idly watching the sheep in the distance. There was no duller task for her than leading the sheep to pasture. She tried to entertain herself by composing a melody for the violin while waiting for Milos. He was supposed to come by any moment with his ever-full bag of food.

In the air, she felt a strange restlessness, as if it had become heavy to breathe. Even the birds had fallen silent. For a moment, it was as quiet as a grave. All of this contrasted sharply with the beautiful landscape that lay before her. The sun continued to blaze relentlessly, yet despite that, she felt a strange chill.

And then she heard a scream that froze her blood in her veins. It was a scream of despair, loss, and fear. Never in her young life had she heard something so horrifying. Suddenly, fear paralyzed her.

Mother... just let that scream not belong to her!

Evangelia climbed to the very top of the hill that overlooked the entire town.

What she saw stopped both her heart and breath. Darkness was closing in on her eyes, and her legs were giving way. She was on the verge of collapsing from fear and hopelessness.

The entire town was engulfed in devastating flames.