Chapter Seven

She dies...

Chapter Seven

 

 

I woke up in a bedroom.  It was a round room that held nothing more than a huge bed, a trunk, a chair and table.  Across the room stood a wooden armoire.  It was spacious and quiet.  Across the way, Gregor and another stood, whispering near the window.

 

         Beside them a candle burned, casting their shadows towards me.  I sat up as they turned to face me.

 

         “Why do you whisper? “

         “My child”, The Expert said.  “You are ill.  There’s no sign of what ails you but you are slightly burning with fever.  I see no markings on you but it would do well for you to stay in bed for the time being.  I also aided your skin with aloe vera.  The pain in your skin should cease shortly.”

 

         I didn’t like the look of the experts face.  What was wrong?  Even Gregor appeared scared.  This didn’t set well with me.  I threw the covers back to swing my feet over the side of the bed.

 

“No Dearest!”  Gregor ran to the side of the bed and caught my feet before they touched the floor.  Gently, he returned them underneath the covers.  “You must stay off of your feet.”

         “No, I have to get up and do… something.”

         “What must you do?”

 

         I stared at him briefly, wondering just what it was I needed to do.  “Uh, make dinner?”

         “Dinner?”  Gregor and the Expert looked at one another then back to me.  “What is dinner?”

         “Did you eat already?”  I more demanded than asked.  What was wrong with them- didn’t they eat a late meal?

         “Supper has been served Dearest.  Jonah is in bed now.  You have no need to be about.”

 

         It felt wrong to just sit.  It felt wrong to be in this state.  I had to do something…I.  I had to, uh…  “Gutters” I forced.

 

         “Gu-gutters?”  Gregor looked perplexed.

 

         “Olivia”, I sat at attention.  My name!  He said my name was Olivia.  Olivia?  “why don’t you relax while Gregor walks me out?  Gregor.”

 

         The Expert, what the heck was his name, stared with askance.  He then looked to Gregor.

 

         “I’m not stupid you know.  You’re going to discuss me and I think it should be done right here.”

         “Olivia, what has gotten in to you?”  Gregor looked stupefied.  Evidently women didn’t speak with such audaciousness.

 

         “Okay”, the Expert said.  “We do not wish to offend.  I simply didn’t want to upset you.”

 

         I threw my feet over the side of the bed again.  “Why can’t I remember anything?”

 

         “I believe you fell from your horse and hit your head.  Your sickness will subside and you will return to normal.  You must rest first.”

         “Sickness?” 

         “Your lack of memory Olivia.”  He paused a moment before continuing.  “I noticed your surprise when I addressed you.  You didn’t even recognize your name.”

 

         Busted.  “Well, no.  No I didn’t.  But I have no bump on my head to back this theory up.  Maybe there’s something more.”

 

         Why did I say that?  The Expert then pulled back his shoulders and took on an indignant look.  “Well then, my lady.” 

 

         He walked to my bedroom door and turned back to me.  “Should you desire my position as the village’s expert, please do inquire.  Do not seek my aid then conclude your own diagnosis.  Good day.”  He turned and was gone.  I heard the downstairs doors open but only one shut.  He was hot.

 

         I kinda giggled and looked to my, my husband Gregor.  His face was stone.  He wasn’t happy.

 

         “Expert Humes was rather cross, don’t you think?”

 

         I laughed and he joined me.  It felt good to laugh.  It was the best thing I’d done since waking up, other than finding out that this handsome man was my husband.  Now to find out what my precarious situation was all about.

 

         Who am I?

 

 

 

***

 

         The morning was beautiful.  The sun was bright and had my room lit completely.  A smokey, cool breeze wafted in, as well as the sounds of laughter.  There were people outside.

 

         I sat up and concentrated.  There was laughter.  The sound of menacing, cruel laughter played but there was something else; a sound of a continuous roaring wave.

 

         I jumped out of bed, my bare feet hitting the floor of the small, two-storied home.  That’s when I felt the heat.  The floor was really warm, too warm.

 

         I opened my bedroom door and a thick cloud of billowing smoke forced its way in, like a upsurge!   The house was on fire!  On reaction, I slammed the door shut.  What was I to do?  I didn’t know the layout of the place!  And where was the boy?

 

         Was he safe and where was my Gregor?  I was feeling the rise of panic from my gut but decided to hold it off.  I had to get out and find them.  I opened the door and leaned down low.

 

         Quickly, I ran to my bed and yanked the sheet off.  I balled it and placed over my face, allowing me to see- what little view I had. 

 

         I dropped to my knees and began feeling along the wall.  Was there another room up here?  Slowly I crept, trying to breathe lightly to avoid inhalation.  My knees scraped terribly as I made my way.  I couldn’t believe how dark it was for such a bright morning.  I couldn’t see anything in front of me, other than an inch or two of the floor.

 

         I came across a doorway.  The door was open.  I crawled inside, just crawling with the hopes of hitting something.  Finally I did.  I hit a wall.  Again, I crawled as fast as I could, seeking a bedpost or something.

 

         What was the boy’s name again?  “Jonah!”  I croaked while the smoke seeped into my lungs.  The floor was getting hot and I didn’t know how much longer I had before I allowed the fear to take over and I got to my feet to run.

 

         cough  cough

 

         Over to my right, I heard coughing- he was still in here!  ‘God help me’, I prayed.  Quickly, I made my way in the darkness.  My reach landed my hands on the soft cushion of the bed mattress.  A foot.  I found my son!

 

         I called out his name but got nothing response.  I didn’t wait to see if he was breathing or not; I pulled him down to the floor with me and I did my best to drag him along while I sought the doorway.

 

         The heat was intense.  In the hallway I found my way slowly, creeping and barely breathing.  I couldn’t see anything but not due to the smoke.  I kept my eyes squeezed shut so tightly; I all they did was water and ache. 

 

         When I found the short staircase, I flopped down as cautiously and hurriedly as one could, with a kid slung a shoulder.  When I reached the bottom, I saw the fire.

 

         It was everywhere but nowhere!  I could see red flickering amidst the rolling black.  It was frightening; everywhere I turned to step, a flame flickered in my direction.  I had no clue on which way to go.  I moved carefully, squinting through teary lashes.  It hurt so much.

 

         Once I’d moved enough to the front doors, I saw light pushing through the smoke.  It looked like a hazy rectangle, the light at the end of the tunnel!

 

         I made my way forward, calling out to Gregor.  I hadn’t tripped over anything or anyone.  With any luck, he was outside trying to put out the blaze.

 

         The laughter I’d heard earlier shoved through the smolder.  There was no way a man like Gregor would stand outside and watch his family burn, would he?  Could he?  I didn’t know him.  Nero watched Rome burn but he was crazy.  He had an excuse.  Gregor wasn’t crazy.  There was no way.

 

         Jonah’s body was beginning to feel substantial.  I walked on feet that were more than singed.  They were trying to bleed but the blood was pretty much being cooked against the floor.  Each step was excruciating.  Breathing was next to impossible.  And visibility was pretty much next to nothing.

 

         So I lowered to my hands and knees and slowly crept towards the glowing rectangle before me.  I knew that it led to the outside but I couldn’t tell how long before we reached it. 

 

         Jonah’s head was barely above the floor.  His body straddled mine; dragging both his hands and feet across the baking surface.  I was about halfway to the doorway when a loud cracking sound began behind us.

 

         I turned my head to check but I couldn’t see anything.  The smoke and Jonah’s body blocked assessment.  Once the cracking grew in crescendo, I then saw a billowing roar of fire flared out at us and the entire floor rumbled through the black haze.  The second floor fell.

 

         It was so loud that for a moment, the roar of the fire was drowned out.  It brought a rush of burning heat in our direction, causing me to scream out in pain.  My hands, arms and feet were burned.  I could feel blisters begin.  I realized that I was about to burn to death.  If I didn’t die of smoke inhalation.

 

         I worried about Jonah, an innocent, little boy who may be dead already.  On my back, he was heavier than any grown-up.  I turned back to the doorway and began to crawl at a faster snails pace.  I cried while crawling blind.

 

         Every inhale was burning to my lungs and the flames were burning our skin.  I was literally being roasted alive and I couldn’t do anything about it.

 

         Hang on Jonah, I said to myself.  God…

 

         I took a choking breath and cried out, “Help!”  I coughed three long times and stole a chance again.  “Help us!”

         “Olivia!”

 

         Gregor called to me.  I heard the pain in his voice but couldn’t see him anywhere.  I coughed again, making it to the doorway.

 

         “Gregor, help me!”

 

         The roaring fire was so loud.  I didn’t hear Gregor anymore but that didn’t stop me from making my way to the door. 

 

         As I crawled, the smoke grew thin.  I was beginning to see shapes outside.  Even the air was lighter, making it easier for me to breathe.  I only prayed it wasn’t too late for Jonah.  He hadn’t made a sound or moved the entire time.

 

         “Olivia!  Jonah, this way!”

 

I looked up and saw figures in the front.  I had made it to the doorway!  I moved, what I felt was quickly but it was more like slow motion.  Each move was agonizing and breathing came in short gusts but I moved through the doorway.

 

         Before me, I saw Gregor on his knees.  He had his arms behind his back, like he’d been cuffed.  He was on his knees before some men.

 

         His face had been beaten.  There was blood and bruises all over his face and arms.  His hair was sweaty and matted where he’d obviously received a head wound.  His eyes were wide in terror and tears ran, streaking this soot-covered face.

 

         Around him were about eight men.  It could be less but my eyes were barely able to register my husband.  They were standing about, laughing.  Laughing at my beaten and broken husband.  Laughing at my son and me.

 

         When I got about halfway through the second doorway, I reached out to my husband.  I fell on my stomach, no longer strong enough to carry my son and I through.  I was lost.  My son was probably dead and my heart ached with sadness.  My husband was before me, before my eyes but so far away.

 

         “Gregor”, I cried while choking.  I continued to reach for him as a man walked up beside my husband.  A tall, big man who looked familiar.

 

         He grinned at Gregor and then looked to me.  It was the Expert.  Quakes of shock, fear, anger and rage shot through me. 

 

         “Olivia!”  Gregor croaked.  He could barely call to me; his voice was ravaged from screaming to me.  He was so hoarse that he sounded pathetic but pain and fear can do that to you.

 

         More cracking and thundering.  Another billowing cloud of smoke flew past me, making my view darken.  When I could begin to see my husband again, I felt a horrible agony.  White hot.  I was on fire.

 

         I looked behind me just as I heard Gregor call out to me again.  I was on fire!  My son’s body was engulfed and I couldn’t move to help him.  My lower half was trapped under a portion of the roof.

 

         I tried to scream, more from shock than pain but I couldn’t.  I began choking from the smoke again.  The coughing was awful.

 

         “Please God- My son!  Please help us…”

 

         I looked to my husband who was trying to rush to us but the men wouldn’t let him go.  He watched, terror-stricken.  The Expert backhanded Gregor, dropping him onto his side.

 

         The pain in my body became unbearable.  I laid down and cried.  I cried for the boy on my back that I didn’t know, who was now engulfed by flames.  I cried for the man, my husband Gregor who had to watch this terrible event.  I then cried for God to save our souls.

 

         I blacked out and saw no more.

Author's Note

HI, please don't worry about hurthing my feelings; I'd really like to know why you think. Leave me a comment. Thanks!