Deadly Secrets

Chapter 15: Answers

A four-year-old Zara stood in the middle of her living room, her short, chubby arms wrapped tightly around her favourite teddy bear. A fire danced around the little girl, its orange and red flames tauntingly licking the walls and the furniture, leaving behind ugly black stains of destruction. Thick, black-grey flumes rose from the inferno, forming a layer of smoke which hung just below the ceiling."Mommy! Daddy!" Zara wailed, her eyes burning from the noxious gases. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stumbled around the room, the fire slowly closing in on her like a famished wildebeest devouring everything in its path.

The temperature was becoming unbearable and she didn't know what to do.

Zara continued to wallow around disoriented until she caught her little foot on one of the jutting wooden boards. After a shriek of surprise, she tumbled across the floor, her teddy bear flying away from her grasp. She feebly called out for help again, but her cries remained unanswered when part of the ceiling collapsed, burying her stuffed toy under a pile of debris.

Her vision began to blur around the edges as the ash began to deposit itself in her lungs, her breathing strained and forced as her body attempted to expel the toxic air. The intense heat was roasting her skin, and she tried to sit up, but her weakened state slammed her back down against the floor. "Mommy," she mumbled weakly, her voice trailing off as she began to see white spots.

A woman called out her name, just as consciousness began to slip away, "Zara....Zara..." She slowly turned her head towards the sound, but she couldn't see from who it came from. Her eyes fluttered shut as one last, trembling breath escaped her lips.
Then, everything went black.

Zara awoke with a start, her eyes flying open as she sat up on her bed.

She had been too young when she had lost her parents. When Zara was younger, she was able to picture them clearly, like a family picture, crisp in her mind. Sometimes, when she was feeling lonely or sad, she would hide in a closet and talk to them, their presence in her heart giving Zara the strength to get by, soldiering on through a world that wanted nothing for her but suffering.

As the years wore on, however, the beauty of the memory became increasingly suffocated by the hardships of life, eventually fading away into the void of her mind. Without a picture or memento by which to remember them and the days becoming more and more hectic, it became increasingly harder for her to give them life.

Every day became harder to endure.

Calm down, it was just a nightmare.

Her eyes welled up with tears and she sniffled, covering her face with both hands.

No, it wasn't just a damn nightmare.

A headache suddenly kicked in, and Zara groaned. She brought both her hands to the sides of her head to rub her temples with her knuckles. A wave of nausea swept over her, but with the sheer force of her willpower, she managed to force it down, just as she fell back against her pillow. She looked up at the ceiling, the edges of her sun-shaped lamp blurry and undefined.

Where was this headache coming from? She forced herself to push away the horrific nightmare in order to remember what had happened the night before, but nothing came. It was as if her memory had been wiped clean. She squeezed her eyes shut and took deep controlled breaths, the pain still pounding against her head, trying once again to recollect the past events.

Nothing.

She sighed in frustration and rolled onto one side, reaching over to her bedside table to put on her glasses. After putting them on, she passed a hand through her hair, turning her head to look at the scene around her. Clothes were strewn all over the floor and bed, and her backpack was flung in a corner of the room, their contents regurgitated all over the area.