Heaven is Old

Chapter 1

Traces of the past marked the room I found myself in.

Late afternoon light illuminated a medium-sized bed, dominating the center of the space. Next to it, swirling dust landed on an overthrown chair and a wooden desk, holding scattered papers, books, broken electronics, and other seemingly worthless knick-knacks. Photographs, in all shapes and sizes, adorned cream-colored walls, depicting moments and frozen smiles that have long faded away.

The eerie silence was interrupted as I stepped into the room, broken glass cracking under my boots. The wind coming from a shattered window to my left gently lifted the threadbare curtains and whispered across the nape of my neck. Several trinkets, hanging from the overhead lamp, slightly swayed with my movements. To the right, a closet stood, its doors wide open, heaps of clothing spilling out and blanketing the floor. The place was in heavy disarray, the air smelled of dampness and mold. Despite that, the room held a deeply personal touch of someone who probably would not be pleased with an intruder whose role I appraised today.

Not having the luxury of time to contemplate the righteousness of my actions, I got to work and first turned my attention to the desk. Carefully scanning the surface and going through the drawers, I rummaged for something – anything – of value. A few things that I have found, including some writing materials and a pair of dull scissors, went into my bulky backpack. I knew well enough to leave the books alone – heavy to carry and printed in a language no-longer spoken, they rarely caught any interest from street vendors, who preferred goods of more practical nature.

I combed the remaining nooks and crannies of the room. Apart from a couple of pieces of clothing that had potential to prove useful in the upcoming months of heat and a pair of light-weight shoes, which looked to be about Jan's size, my bounty was small. Combined with the items I have found buried deep in the downstairs' pantry, however – four packets of salt, a jar of crystallized honey and several cans of conserved food – I could consider today's expedition a success. After all, some of my days were spent traveling farther distances and still resulted in nothing but achy muscles and an empty belly.

Casting the last assessing look around, I decided to terminate my search there and headed back downstairs to the entrance of the house. Precious daylight was trickling away quickly, and it still had to lead me back to the Crossing. The farmhouse I stumbled upon was a few hours' walk away from the town, and the lush greenery I had to comb through to reach it would prove even more challenging in the thick darkness of the night. Not to mention, the faded path I tracked from the main road would be indiscernible, causing me to wander around aimlessly. Limited vision, remote location, and no means of defense but a rusty knife stuck in my boot – not a situation for a woman with any sense of self-preservation.

With that thought in mind, I traced back my steps to the smashed living room window I used to enter the house and hopped down on the soft grass outside. I turned back to the forest, but right before entering the tree line, I looked back at the house once more.

Chipped white paint on the walls and green traces on the barely-hanging shutters hinted at a pleasant color scheme of the structure. Wide front porch, still holding a weathered wooden bench, could have once been a spot for relaxation and calm. I imagined flowers out front, nurtured to bloom by caring hands, inviting guests to come in. Awash in the sunlight, the house seemed to radiate warmth. It reminded of...

Drowning in the fire. Bitter smoke filling my lungs. Screaming. Run!

Slightly shaking my head, I tried to leave the memory behind as I turned around and started making my way back. Yet, I knew it wouldn't be that easy. I could direct my spinning thoughts now and focus on my surroundings to chase distraction, but once darkness came and my eyes shut, the images will come crawling back, scarred as deeply as they were.