A Single Step

Untitled Part 1

A Single Step

The red glow of the fire stung my eyes to look at. The screaming of the people who I knew. My friends. "Am I the only one who escaped?" I ask myself. I still smell the smoke, burning my lungs as if there were a fire in them, too. The only thing that has kept me going for so long was the bright orange fire in my own beating heart, but now, I feel as if I'm going to collapse. Like I'm being crushed under my own weight, which has been rapidly declining as I began this journey to a new home. "Heh. 'A journey of a thousand miles...' what a load of crap" I say to myself as I stand up again to continue my seemingly endless trek into the merciless desert.

The napalm bombs hit the city without warning. Young children were in school still; those schools are now reduced to ash and various burnt articles of clothing. I remember seeing the smoldering crimson where the old elementary school stood. The smell of burning flesh still fills my nostrils as I take my first step in the morning. It's cold in the morning, but it'll soon be unbearably hot in all but a few hours. To that fact, I decide to leave my jacket off and enjoy the cool hands of the morning air on my skin. I never thought I could run so fast. There was no air raid alarm. Just bombs. "Just a few more miles" I say to myself as I see the next city in the distance. Yet, it seemed no closer than yesterday, or the day before that. My aunt is waiting for me there, alive. Unscathed. I wonder if I'm just hallucinating. Or if I really am dead. And all this is just a dream while my brain tries to make sense of what's going on. But it can't be that. It's too real.

All of a sudden, the desert became a vast sea, or at least, that's what my hallucinations tell me. The city in the distance becomes a pirate ship, with the crew taunting me, telling me that I'm never going to catch up, "You'll die in the sea, like the rest of your family." Bodies appear in the water, bodies that are screaming for my help as they drag me under. My friends and family. My mother, father. All gripping by my legs and pulling. How many bullets are left in that handgun? 3? No, I can't do that. I have to tell everyone what's happened. I have to get help. That's what I say, but my hand, seemingly detached from the rest of my body, puts the barrel of the pistol in my mouth. And pulls the trigger.

Everything is black. There's nothing, at least, not for a few seconds. The words 'no escape' keep replaying in my mind as if it's a broken record. Everything feels hot. Not warm, no, HOT. They say that you're supposed to feel cold when you die, and as far as I can tell, I've just eaten a bullet. This isn't cold, it feels like I'm burning. This feels as if there's some unyielding supernatural fire eating away at my body. I attempt to escape the flame, this... hellish sensation that encompasses my soul. 'No escape' it sounds as if someone is whispering those words to me, 'no escape. No escape. No escape. NO ESCAPE' it gets louder, like the beat of a drum approaching me. Like the drums that'd play in the old ceremonies. Oh, how I missed those drums, the peace of mind I felt at the time.

I awaken, back in the desert. Dazed, confused, I'm not entirely sure what happened. A man in a white robe, a sword sheathed in a silver scabbard is mounted to his left hip. Where did this man, or, whatever he is, come from?