Short Stories

Don't Look Back

"What about this one? Too bright?"

Mum grins as I wrinkle my nose at the neon yellow top she holds in front of me. "Mum, you know I will never wear that, it's melting my eyeballs!"

She laughs and hangs it back on the rack. "I know, I just wanted to tease you."

"I'm happy with what I've got," I say.

Dad slips into the clothes store and pulls Mum and I into a short hug, saying, "Well, I hope you have enough money left for one more thing. I've just found a book that I think you'll love."

"Alright, I'll squeeze in one more thing if you insist." I grin, rolling my eyes.

"I'm staying here," says Mum. "I need some new work shoes."

We wave goodbye and go our separate ways, promising to meet up for dinner after.

"She just got work shoes," I mutter. "What does she do, eat them?"

Dad chuckles and throws an arm around my shoulders. "Happy Birthday, Ollie."

We wander round the bend from the clothes store, marvelling at all the decorations. It's nearly Christmas and the shopping centre is almost overly festive, strings of Christmas lights criss-crossing like a bejewelled spiderweb sprawled overhead. Reindeer dance and flash in shop windows and tiny Santas can be heard laughing merrily from every direction.

I don't mind at all having my birthday overshadowed by Christmas. It's a good thing really because it means that when I come here to spend my birthday money the whole place is decked out in light and cheer, almost as if they're celebrating just for me.

I breathe in the lovely, cozy, wintery smell and sigh happily. I love this time of year. It's just so...warm.

I can almost feel the comforting spark of happiness lighting all over my skin. It's almost real. But hang on...

I wriggle out of Dad's hold and turn to look behind us, the hairs on the back of my arms and neck standing up uneasily. The Christmas smell has thickened and turned sour and I can see flickering amber shadows on the wall of the bend. People are turning to stare now.

A lone figure runs down the hall, screaming something over and over that I can't make out till she gets closer.

"Fire! Run!"

The flames roar round the corner ready to consume us.

Chaos.

Panic.

Fear.

My shoulders thump with pain as I'm jostled by desperate people screeching to find the fire exits, and my heart fills with fear as I scramble to follow them. The fire roars ever closer, singeing the walls and tainting the air with black smoke.

I've barely made it ten steps when I feel a tight hand grip my arm and Dad spins me to face him. A sudden terrifying thought scorches into my mind, leaving afterimages of shock and terror. 

"Mum!" She's still in the clothes store, round the corner where the fire came from. What's happening to her!?

"I know," says Dad, his eyes overflowing with wild panic, yet solemn at the same time. "I'm going back to get her."

The flames lick closer, almost upon us, and I try to pull him desperately back with me. "Dad! You can't go! Don't leave me!"

He grips my arms tighter. "Do you want her to die, Ollie, is that what you want?" His gaze turns hard.

"No, I don't want either of you to die!" I scream. I can feel the heat on the flames on my face, though that might have been hot tears flowing down my cheeks.

"I have to try, Ollie. Don't you see? I have to try." He pushes me slowly away, voice cracking with regret. "You have to run, Ollie. Don't look back, do you promise me that? Don't you dare look back." My heart splits in two as he suddenly let's go and his voice is in my ear telling me one last thing before he disappears into the raging fire and smoke.

"Dad! DAD!" I scream. "Dad!"

Run, Ollie.

Don't look back.

Sobbing, shaking, I run, closing my eyes, heat on my back as the fire sweeps furiously towards me. But I don't look back to see how near it is. I don't. I can't. Mum and Dad will be just behind me, they'll make it out. Just wait. Trust. But there's pain and sick, sick fear in my heart and I can barely concentrate on anything else but,

lungs burning,

heart breaking,

muscles straining,

breath taken,

Run, Ollie.

I wish I could put out this fire with my tears.

Don't look back.

I scream as I sprint, inferno behind, in front, around, flooding tears on my face, smoke scarring my lungs, coughing and howling.

The tongues of raging sparks lick at my feet and sharp, fiery pain shoots up my leg. I frantically kick the burning shoe off and just run, nothing more. Panic and terror rise up my throat like bile and I let out an inhuman screech as something cracks within me and wild, primal fear takes me over, speeding me in a last desperate burst of energy. I am an animal, fleeing for my life.

Run, Ollie.

Don't look back.

Just run.

I must have passed a thousand fire exits and yet here I am, still a mad, shrieking burning bullet streaking towards-

The front doors.

The cool glass is already glowing sinister orange as I near. I know I should slow but I won't stop, I can't, I don't dare. I race straight for them and smash through  and now my hair and skin is full of glass and pain, how can there be still more pain after the anguish ripping my heart into pieces?

I still can't stop, my legs keep powering until I rush into the arms of a person who cages me tight with his iron arms and muscles like steel.

I shout and fight but he leads me over to a woman, soft and worried and she doesn't mind when I cry and grip her so hard it feels like my fingers won't loosen.

My head thumps and I'm coughing, breaths rattling in my chest, and there are people and driving smoke and shrill, wailing sirens everywhere. I close my eyes and blot everything out.

The woman who I think is a nurse sets me down with water and a blanket but the liquid tastes bitter and I can't think straight, I can't tell her my name, I don't know it. My lips are cracked and my limbs are black but that doesn't matter.

My eyes are drawn over and over to the burning building, a devastatingly beautiful burning blaze of desolation lighting up the night sky and obliterating the stars.

I love you, Ollie.

Dad. Dad and Mum.

Mum loves you.

Did they make it? Are they okay? I ask the nurse but she doesn't know.

Dad loves you.

They have to be alright. They'll make it out, somehow. They have to.

If we don't come back I want you to know...

No. No, no, no, no! I will believe it! I have to hope. Have hope, Ollie.

We both love you so much.

Just let them be okay. Please. Please...

Run, Ollie.

Don't look back.

I turn my gaze to the building. They'll come running out and everything will be okay and it'll all be fine, you'll see. We'll be fine.

Run.

I watch the building for hours, waiting for them to come out.

They never do.