The Last Day (Short Story)

I have lived here for 14 years. I think. My mother was sent here soon after I was born. Typical, The Master throwing away something that displeases him, in this case me, an embarrassment. Anyway, Pompeii is nice, I suppose, if you like a bunch of snooty people on vacation, ordering you what to do. 

See, my mom is a pretty Gaulish slave, and she caught the eye of her Master. So at the age of 16, she was stuck with a baby, me, and the loathing of her Mistress. The Master (and therefore my father), cowed by his wife's fury, sent Mother to his vacation home in Pompeii. Mother named me Ceil. Apparently it means sky in her language. When I was little she used to sing me lullabies about lovely deep blue skies with fluffy white clouds in them. She said that it was one of the things that she missed most about home. So instead I would be her Sky, to bring her happiness. 

Anyway, this is where I have grown up, in the pretty vacation town tucked beneath Mount Vesuvius, like a baby chick tucked beside the mother hen. Since my mother is a slave, so am i. I have only seen my father a handful of times, and he has never spoken to me, but even I can see the obvious resemblance between us. How I must irritate his wife, The Mistress! She who in all their years of marriage has never had a son, only small pale girl, a few years younger than myself.  

I am just a stable boy, I sleep in the hay above the horses stalls. At least it is warm. But I hate how every time The Family comes my mother is forced to work herself sick, in order to help prepare the vast meals that The Family only ends up picking at, and when they invite guests it is ten times worse. Especially the dinner parties. The whole household lives in dread of the dinner parties. They take days, sometimes weeks, to prepare for. First, the entire house must be scoured, top to bottom. Then the food must be bought and cooked, just right. It takes the servants days just to recover.  

But, enough of this. Cook tells me that I must go to the market today to fetch him some ingredients for dinner. I say goodbye to Mother, and am about to head out the door when little Helena (The Master's legitimate daughter) asks me if she can come with me to the market. I sigh. What a drag, not that I can refuse of course. So I force a smile and agree.  

The animals have been acting strange the last few days. My horses winnie and stomp around their stalls at all times, day or night, most unlike them. And Helena's little imported pet bird has been singing urgently. As we walk out into the hot narrow streets, I glance up at the sky. A lot of storm clouds for this time of day, and it's still midmorning. 

The streets are dirty, open sewers, disgusting. Helena skips ahead of me down the street toward the markets, near the vineyards at the base of the mountain. I should run after her, but I feel a little bad for her. She is a pretty, innocently happy girl, who is almost always cooped up in the villa, her mother rarely allows her out, even with a servant. The Mistress would have a fit if she knew about this, but she's in bed with a migraine. So, I let Helena run ahead and enjoy the feeling of humanity swirling around her small form. She skips daintily over the puddles of sewer, grimacing. I chuckle. I squint up at the beautiful vineyards that carpet the mountainside as we arrive at the crowded marketplace. 

Admittedly I lollygagged around the square a bit more than I usually would, but I enjoyed watching Helena skip naively past, her large brown eyes taking everything in. By the time that we had finally purchased the meat and vegetables for Cook (and a snack for Helena) it was close to noon. I had noticed a few strange tremors throughout the morning, but had thought that they could be anything. Now, however, I realized that they were not. A gigantic plume of thick menacing-looking smoke exploded from the mountain! It was as if time was frozen. I have never seen the Market Square so still. Every single person was perfectly still, their heads tilted upwards to stare at this phenomenon. The cloud of smoke grew and grew until it towered for what seemed like an impossible height into the sky. 

I notice a south-west wind beginning to pick up. But...but that would mean that the smoke would be blown directly towards us! Apparently others were also starting to notice this. People begin to run towards the city, where there will be shelter. Vendors frantically try to gather up all of their goods. I have hesitated too long. The streets are already clogged with frantic shoppers. I grab Helena's hand and pull her along as I begin to run. The cloud is moving towards us at an alarming speed. Pebbles begin to pelt us. I pick one up, and weigh it in my hand. It is light, surprisingly so, and slightly warm. Larger rocks begin to fall, crashing down onto the heads of terrified pedestrians. People try to move even faster, resulting in an even worse jam. Where can I get Helena to shelter quickly? We are just beginning to enter the city; I look around and see several alcoves with painted marble statues in them. Most people still think that they can make it to the city, so the small spaces are still empty. 

I push the shivering girl next to me in to one, with what looks like the goddess Tempestates. Goddess of storms. How ironic. The two of us huddle next to each other holding one another for comfort. HAHA, The Mistress would have a fit if she saw us. I chuckle a little hysterically at the thought. We watch as hundreds of people stampede their way into the city. Every few seconds one of them is being knocked down by the giant rocks falling from the sky. I have never put much stock in religion, or the gods, but this does make me wonder...no, even if there were gods they wouldn't just smite us down for no reason. Helena lets out a small sob and I glance down at here. She looks absolutely petrified. "We're going to die," she whispers somewhat matter of factly. "No!" I say, "We'll be fine, as soon as the rocks stop falling we'll go home. Everything is going to be okay." But even as I say the words I'm not sure if they're true. 

The cloud of smoke is very close now. It looks evil somehow, and very, very angry. It rolls and tumbles as if it was alive and really did hate this little town. It feels as though we've been here for hours. I realize that it's going to be a while before we'll be able to go home, so I spread my cloak down and Helena and I curl up on it, clutching each other tightly. I watch as the smoke advances towards us. Helena closes her eyes tightly, and I can tell that she is trying not to cry. But I am strangely calm. I doubt that the smoke will be good for us. I hope that it won't hurt too much. I do wish that I could save Helena though. She is the only one of The Family who has ever been kind to me, or spoken as if I were an equal. Mother will be so worried. I hope that at least she will be okay. Maybe since she is at the villa, where there is shelter, she will be protected from the deadly missiles raining down upon us. 

Fire erupts from the mountain; it is strangely beautiful in a savage sort of way. Some mother hen. When I glance down I see that tendrils of fog are creeping up the streets, which are now empty. As I breathe I begin to cough. Ugh, what is this stuff, it burns my lungs. I glance down to see Helena being racked with horrible rasping coughs. I start to convulse as well. My lungs are on fire!! So much for being pain free. I start to feel dizzy and disoriented. I barely even notice when Helena coughs begin to subside, and when she finally falls still. I wish that I could have at least talked to my father once, even if just to yell at him for his neglect. Oh, well. Too late now. I feel my heart begin to slow, and can tell that the end is coming. "I should have saved her," is the last thought that swirls around my heard. But I can't breathe now...then my head falls onto my chest. Darkness.