I woke up. Not to the morning glow peaking over the mountains, but to the loud pounding in my ear created by the nearby towns fire alert system. Like any other day, this could have been a drill, so I patiently waited. Waited, to hear the computerized voice, blaring through the town’s neighborhoods, alerting us that this was just another test. But it wasn’t, and we all knew that this time, the fire was too close; we all knew an evacuation was in place, and we all had to leave our homes alone to stand on guard against the fire.
I met my mother, in the hallway, she assured me that everything was going to be all right, that our home would not be affected. We believed what everyone else thought, our home surly could not burn, it was too precious and the firefighters were working diligently to seize the fire. So we grabbed our already packed emergency escape duffels, grabbed Tommy, my cat, and ran strait to the car, looking back only as we pulled out of the drive. We were directed, with everyone else in our neighborhood, to a community hours away in safety. We were told, that we could stay at a shelter until it was safe to go home, or we could stay at a friends. So we packed up once again, and made our way towards my cousins house in Denver.
Patiently, we waited as we watched the local Colorado news, reporting the spread of the fire. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The already 47-square mile fire was advancing at a rate of a mile an hour. This was when I felt it. I felt the chills creep up my spine, raising the hair along my arms. I had just left my entire life at my home. The home that at this point, we allowed ourselves to realize, was going to burn. I thought of the photos, the ones of my father, sitting waiting to be burnt to nothing more than ash. I began to cry, realizing that all my of my memories, though still in tact in my mind, no longer had a place to exist in the world. I remember the first day of elementary school, sitting with my mother and father, with my new yellow backpack, on my bed, and I was scared. I had not wanted to leave the nest, but I was reassured that no matter what, at the end of the day, I still had my home to go to. My family would be waiting there anxiously for me. And at this moment in time, I knew that nest was gone.
As we drove up, I closed my eyes. I was too afraid at what was in front of me. Although I had already faced the truth when my house was reported a disaster area, I had no idea how to cope with it. The trees, or I should say the piles of burnt array, were scarring, the image would forever haunt me. We drove up the familiar route, to the the most unfamiliar, most horrific view I had ever seen. My home, was truly a disaster area.
Melisa,
ReplyDeleteYou've absolutely placed me in the path of a fire. The emergency duffels and the cat are important details, but the sentence that stays with me is: "I began to cry, realizing that all my of my memories, though still in tact in my mind, no longer had a place to exist in the world." That says so much about how physical manifestations of our emotions are so important to us...
The flashback to your first day of school is beautiful, as well, as we realize then that this narrator is being forced to grow up in a new way now.
Thank you,
Spring