The Way Out

Chapter 10 - The Way Of The Past

     I smiled, feeling happy.
     "When will she be back?" She asked, her smile showing off her missing two front teeth.
     "Soon," I reply, "Go grab some orchids from the backyard while I grab a vase." We had set the table using our mother's favourite white tablecloth, and we're about to prepare her favourite dinner. Mother's Day should make her smile, I thought. She is always spending more and more time at work, the market. I guess that's a good thing, because it gave me and my sister extra time to surprise her.
     I pulled out the tall glass vase from the cupboard and place it gently on the table.
     "After this," she said, "I'll be the best little sister, and the favourite daughter!" She smirked mischievously. I laughed as she closed the door behind her.
     "Don't take too long!" I called after her. She should be here any minute. I imagined the surprised smile she would give when she sees all that we've done. Our small house was spotless, on the inside at least, and we prepared a delicious dinner. The smell of the food on the stove was making my mouth water.
     I pulled off my sweatshirt, and chucked it onto the floor. Second-guessing myself, I kicked it underneath the sofa I was sitting on to hide the mess.
     I found myself overheating, and sweat began dripping down my forehead. I stood up.
     Somethings wrong. I ran to the front door.
She should be back with the flowers. I opened the door, gasping as the trees around our house we're painted red with flames.
     I screamed, calling out her name. Heat engulfed me, and I felt as though my heart would beat out of my chest. I ran down the path, covering my mouth with my T-Shirt.
     "Where are you?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I followed the path to the place where the orchids grew best. She must have wanted to find the best ones. I sprinted down the flaming path, dodging fallen branches. My lungs hurt as if I was drowning in a cloud of smoke. My feet pounded harder on the ground as I forced myself to run faster. I heard high-pitched shrieks as I neared the end of the path. What I saw now was not the beautiful orchid garden from my childhood. The one with the beautiful stream and green trees. What I saw now was a raging body of water, about ten feet wide, surrounded by burning towers of flame and ash. I turned my head toward the scream, my neck giving out a pinch of pain as I swing too quickly.
There she is.
     The garden isn't the only thing that has changed. The sister I see now isn't the cheerful, playful, giggling sister who doesn't stop tickling you until you tickle her back. The sister I see now is no more than a scrap of a little girl on her hands and knees, her tear-stained face frozen in an expression of pure fear that makes my heart skip a beat.
     She's on the other side of the rocky stream, her wails sending shivers down my spine. I call out to her, and gesture to her to come closer. She doesn't budge.
She's frozen in fear. I silently wish I was the one to be saved. When I save her, who will save me?
     I instinctively jump out onto the first stone, barely sticking out of the water, and slippery. I take a look at the next overhang.
   I can't make it. Do I swim? Do I jump?
Another blood-curdling scream comes from the other side of the steam. I can see her now, and the flaming trees around her. Smoke surrounds the both of us, like a choking mist.
I can't do this.
     I hear a crack, louder than the ones before.
     I can't do this.
     I look up.
I can't do this.
     A creak explodes from our right, and I see the thick trunk of a tree teetering down towards the little body of my sister. Smaller branches are pushed along with the trunk and scatter around the flaming garden. I try to scream but choke on the smoke, as part of a tree comes crashing down into the raging waters. Waves flow over the slippery rock and sweep me off my feet. I can hear screams and crackling from under the water's surface. I struggle for air against the water of the stream and the smoke of the fire. The waves pull me downstream, and I make a failed attempt to clutch onto roots and stones. My arms and legs scrape on the rocky sides as the waters  forcefully drag me back and forth. Tears stream down my cheeks, as I drift farther and farther away from my home, not that much was left of it anyway.
     I wince in pain as a scrape from a pointy rock knocks me from my thoughts. The raging waters drag me down as if they're angry at me.
What did I do wrong?
     My vision began to blur, my senses overwhelmed with smoke and water. My head was dragged down once more, and my arms and legs give up on paddling my way back to the surface.
I gave up on the surprise. I gave up on myself. But what pains me the most, is that I gave up on my sister.