From The Ashes – Short Story
Oh, hey. Despite all other evidence to the contrary, I and this blog are still alive. I really don’t know what to write for blog articles, so instead, I’m just gonna post a short story I wrote in February. I wrote it for an iPod writing challenge, so this short story is based off of the song Up from the Ashes by The Letter Black. I hope you enjoy it.
-Story Start-
Crickets chirped and a nearby brook bubbled happily underneath a star-filled August sky. Everything was peaceful and beautiful, like a still picture, or a tranquil scene from a romance movie. At least, that’s how it was for all but one.
Alesha stood several paces away from the boarded up, ivy-covered house set alone in the middle of a clearing. Even from where she stood in the darkness, she could see the black burn scars spreading out from the broken upper window.
Her legs trembled beneath her as she made her way up the overgrown pathway to the rotten step. The door swung back and forth on its hinges, having already been broken open at some point since the house’s abandonment. She stepped through the doorway onto the shredded mat. Her gaze found the welcome mural, painted on the wall and surrounded by tiny handprints. Each one had a name and date underneath them for each year they were put on. The circle was incomplete. She shook her head, forcing back the emotions that threatened to spill over, and hurried towards the stairs.
The thin winding stairway to the upper floor was just as terrifying as she remembered it. Every step she took sent a shudder up her spine as well as through the wood. She practically lunged up the last few steps and hurried away from them, imagining that they’d fall from beneath her.
She found her way into the bedroom without having to think about it. Even after all these years she knew just where it was. It wasn’t like she remembered it, but it was exactly like she’d imagined it would be. The walls were completely black, and the only thing left in the room were the remains of an old cradle. She stood over it, trembling as the memories came back to her.
***
The tiny flame from the stolen lighter flickered over her dark skin and created a dim light around her. She huddled under her blankets as she watched it, not wanting her mother to see that she’d taken the lighter. The flame died and she flicked the lighter again, making it reappear. It was beautiful and the heat on her cold skin felt really nice. She didn’t know why her mother didn’t want her to have it. It was really pretty.
Alesha knew it was just because her mother didn’t like her. She only liked Sara. Sara was perfect. Sara never got into trouble. If she ever did anything wrong, her mom would just say that she was a baby and that she was allowed because she was sick. Which Alesha thought was all nonsense. She could pretend to be sick too if it meant going to the hospital and getting a lollipop at least once a week. But when she’d tried to say she was sick, her mother had told her she was faking and sent her to bed. It wasn’t fair.
Sara started crying in the cradle across the room and Alesha sighed. She flicked the lighter off and stuck her face out from under the blankets looking over at her baby sister. Sara had just turned eighteen months that day and people had given her presents, but Alesha didn’t know what all the fuss about it was. She was turning seven years next week and no one talked about it half as much. Sometimes she wasn’t even sure if her mother remembered it.
She narrowed her eyes at her sister. “Go to sleep, Sara.”
She pulled the blankets back over her head to muffle the sound of her sister’s crying. She wasn’t going to comfort her. Her mother could come and do it if she cared so much. Maybe she’d take her to the hospital again, and she wouldn’t have to listen to her crying for another night. And her Aunt Janet could come over and babysit her. She always liked that.
Everything was much better when she came visiting. She smelled of nutmeg all the time and would bring a little present with her for both of the girls whenever she came over. And the best part was, she didn’t bring a bigger one for Sara or treat her any better just because she was sick.
After a moment, Alesha went back to flicking the lighter on and off. Her eyelids grew heavy, but she forced them open and kept flicking. She turned it on and held it open for a moment. Everything was starting to blur as her eyes closed and her hand slipped to the side.
***
Even the memory of the blinding pain she’d felt moments after falling asleep with the lighter caused her to cry out and bring her hand to the side of her face. She’d gotten out of her burning bed and stumbled from the room, trying to escape the growing fire. When she’d heard Sara’s terrified cries she’d tried to get back in, but the flames had been too big and the smoke too thick.
Several days later, she found herself waking up in a hospital covered in bandages that were hiding horrific burns. She’d cried for her mother, but she hadn’t been there. She didn’t come at all until it was time for Alesha to leave the hospital. And then her grip was too tight on her arm and her voice too cold. She noticed that Sara wasn’t there and she hoped it was just because her mom had left her with a babysitter or her aunt. But deep down she knew why she wasn’t there and why she’d never be there again.
A tear slipped from her eye, splattering onto the blackened floor.
***
“Alesha Carol Anne!” Her mother shouted, shaking her. “How dare you? How dare you even think you could do something like this!?”
“I’m sorry,” Alesha blubbered.
She could tell her mother had had too much to drink. Her body was shaking, her words slurred, and her breath smelled strongly of alcohol.
“I don’t have the money to pay for all this stupid stuff for you. You’re so selfish!”
“I didn’t mean to.” She wiped her arm across her eyes. “Billy s-started it.”
“I don’t care who started it! I just care that your only damn uniform needs to be replaced!” Her mother let go of her and straightened up, running her hand through her straggly hair. “Why do you always have to destroy everything? I’m already paying an arm and a leg to put your through private school!”
She cursed under her breath, running her hand through her hair before looking back down at her daughter. “Sara never would have done anything like this,” she said the last bit quietly, as if she didn’t intend for Alesha to hear, but at the same time, hoped that she would.
Alesha stared up at her mother for a moment, waiting for her take it back. But she never did. She just turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving Alesha to cry alone.
***
It had been the first time her mother had ever said anything like that. Ever compared her to what Sara might have been, but it wasn’t the last. Every time she messed up or failed after that, she got to hear that Sara never would have done anything like what she’d just done. That Sara would have succeeded. Sara would have been perfect. And she knew it was true.
Even when Alesha tried as hard as possible, she still messed up somehow. She still wasn’t good enough. She was at the top of her class, getting a scholarship, labeled the most likely to succeed. But she still couldn’t live up to the memory of her sister.
So she moved out as soon as she finished high school, and moved as far away as she could to go to college. She trained to be a lawyer and never spoke to her mother again.
And her mother never tried to contact her either. It was her aunt who finally called ten years later. But only to tell her mother was in the hospital, dying of cancer, and she didn’t have long left.
***
The beeping of the machines and slow, laboured breathing of her mother met her ears the moment she stepped into the hospital room. The loud clicking of her heels almost sounded grotesque combined with the deathly noises. She’d dressed as though she was going to court. Business.
Her mother’s eyes opened and she looked at her. For a moment there was happiness in them. “You’re… here.” Her frail voice carried a joy that Alesha hadn’t heard since the accident.
Alesha reached out and took one of her mother’s cold hands.
“Sara.” Her mother said, staring up at her lovingly.
A lump grew in her throat and she made a small choking sound as she started to speak. “Mama. It’s me. Alesha.”
The change in her mother’s eyes was instant. She pulled her hand away. “Oh.”
“Mama, please.” A tear slipped down her cheek and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. “Please, mama. You’re dying. Just this one time, can you love me? Can you please forgive me for what I did? I can’t forgive myself if you won’t.”
“You… killed… her. You… killed… my baby.” Her breathing halted and the machines beeped more as her heart rate picked up.
A nurse ran in and started looking her over. Alesha just slowly backed out of the room. Part of her still hoped her mother would ask her to stay, but she didn’t. She didn’t even look at her.
As soon as she was out of the room, she bolted, running out of the hospital and to her car. She got in and started to drive, not really sure where she was going at first, but as she drove, it became clear the direction she was heading. The place she hadn’t been in a very long time. The place where her whole family had died, even if it was just her sister who had been put in the ground.
***
She collapsed on the floor beside the cradle and pressed her palms against the floorboards, her shoulders starting to shake with sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Sara. This is all my fault. I should have died. It shouldn’t have been you.” She could hardly breathe, but she kept going. “Mama would have loved you so much. You would have made her so proud. You would have made me so proud. I never really hated you. I just wanted mama to love me too.”
Ashes piled on the floor from the burnt cradle above them covered her hands. Her shoulders slouched more until her face was nearly touching the ground and she just cried, cried until she couldn’t cry anymore. And then she let her body rest on the floor and stared blankly at the wall, not moving.
Her eyes blinked open and she stretched, pushing herself up. The sun shone through the window, illuminating every speck of ash floating through the air. Alesha got to her feet and looked around. Her gaze landed on a small blue lighter lying on the charred floorboards. She walked over and picked it up, staring down at it. There was no way it could be the same lighter. They wouldn’t have left that on the scene. It looked just like it.
She moved her finger onto the top and flicked it. The flame sparked up and then died away as she moved her finger. Her heart rate increased and she took a sharp breath, trying to calm down the instant panic that sprung up inside her. It was the first time she’d used a lighter since it had happened. Since the day when she’d destroyed everything. The memories of which haunted every moment of her life, awake or asleep. It had to stop. She couldn’t keep living if it was going to be like this.
Her gaze moved back to the cradle and she stared at it for a moment before looking back at the lighter. She pulled her coat off and crumpled it up, tossing it into the remains of the cradle. No one even came to this place anymore. It just stood straight and tall in the middle of the clearing as a constant reminder. She moved the lighter down to it and flicked it on, holding it against the coat until it caught on fire. The flames flickered, slowly growing larger as they consumed the dry cotton around them.
Alesha watched it for a moment before turning and hurrying from the room. She pressed her palm against the wall as she made her way down the steep stairs. Once she was at the bottom, she paused for a moment to listen to the crackling of the fire above her head before she headed outside.
The fire had already built up in intensity as it burned through the dry wood that she could feel the heat on the back of her neck as she walked down the path several meters. She turned again and looked back at the house, watching as the flames licked out through the window.
The flames flickered in her eyes and a smile spread across her face as she lifted her arms out. It was almost as if she could feel the hatred and the weight of the past lifting off of her and burning in the fire. The rejection. The insecurity. The weight of her mother’s disappointment. All burning. The past was gone, turning to ashes. It was time for the future.
-The End-
And there you have it. I currently have this story entered in an actual legitimate contest, so I might let you all know how that goes. If I remember.
I hope you enjoyed this story. It gave me a lot of grief.
Feel free to leave comments below, with your thoughts and comments. They don’t all have to be positive, but do try to be nice, I’m fragile.
