Her Life, My Story

A story, a BIG story, so big I could practically smell it in the air, teasing me, begging to be written. I moved across the deserted unkempt road, narrowly avoiding the rubbish that littered the paved stone streets, almost skipping with glee at the possibility. This could be it I thought, my big break! I could barely control my excitement as I wondered beneath the houses which towered menacingly over me. I turned the corner oblivious to the lack of human activity, as I ran on pure adrenaline, camera banging against my chest as I headed towards the supposed site of destruction; I clung tightly to my tape recorder causing my hand to pale with anticipation. I veered left sharply, and then stopped abruptly, glancing around the place I used to call my hometown, it was barely recognizable I thought withholding a gasp, I rubbed my chest attempting to relive the pressure that was weighing down on my heart.

"Ooh my gosh" I breathed, feeling dazed, I refused to believe the appalling sight that was unveiled in front of me, it was all so surreal. Was this really the place I used to walk confidently around, with feelings of contentment and euphoria? The place where I would capture and embrace moments of utter beauty with my camera, its stunning views and amicable people? I felt a tear slide down my tanned skin, and wiped it away hastily, I forced myself to tear my sea green eyes away from the display of vandalism that opened up before me, as I mourned its death.

I cowered around the corner, fearing for my safety in my own hometown. I leant against the wall grazing my back as slide down it, no longer able to support my own weight. In the midst of my despair I had lost the reason for my quest. I clenched and unclenched my hand rhythmically calming myself, attempting to think clearly through the emotions that had fogged my brain, I sighed finalising my decision. This is it, your big break, you can do it! You are the daring Lola White, undefeatable I screamed at myself internally. I furrowed my eyebrows raking a hand through my cascade of long raven black hair in frustration, narrowing my eyes as I mustered all the strength I possessed, inhaling I stood up. I owed not only myself, but my readers this story. Grasping my tape recorder I turned back around the corner, ducking from the little security I did have and went into the smoke…

****

I followed my instincts, getting dragged into the magnetic attraction, getting drawn in to the chaos. Fear gripped me like a fist, wrenching my heart until I was paralysed with terror. It was all so alien, incomprehensible. Swallowing my dread I walked on.

Through the people who were consumed by madness, verging on the brink of insanity. People ran a mock with vengeance set in their hearts. I looked off into the distance, lost in thought as pointed my vision towards the sky. The clouds were pulled together amongst the hazy dismal grey sky formations. The musky air was infused between both hot and cold, signalling a forthcoming storm. The whole town was covered in a bleak layer of overwhelming defeat, people’s homes burned, shops robbed, people pronounced dead yet they carry on their childish blunder, overthrowing any attempt to stop this barbaric crusade. Some call them thugs, others heroes, but most call these vicious ruffians rioters.

I drew my soft brown jumper near me wanting to feel its flowing sensations near my skin. Then I saw it. And what I saw would be engraved on my very soul for eternity.

The fire engulfed the car, scolding her skin with its hot touch, she froze. The colours, so much like the colours of a rainbow that she had seen so many times in fairy tale books. It glowed orange and yellow, its light reflecting off her eyes. She walked into it reaching her hands out in wonder, "pretty, so pretty" The girl whispered to herself. It burned, a sharp pain fleeted up her nerves, as she screamed in pain and pure agony, clenching her burning fist to her chest, she curled her small body in agony as the fire tore through her.

"Stop her!" I cried, battling my way through the rowdy, rebellious crowds, struggling to be heard over the loud uproar of turbulent cheers. I won’t get to her in time; I won’t get to her in time! I chanted within, fear consuming me like tidal wave, shaking me to my core. A lump rose in my throat as I recalled the last moments which flashed so vividly in front of me, the little girl, a picture of innocents, her wide blue glistening eyes, shining in wonder and bewilderment, curiosity. Reaching out, touching death. Swallowing my fear I marched on, screaming on the top of my lungs, wincing at the sound, its high hysterical hopeless pitch.

It was like wading through thick mud, my joints ached with each step, I screamed out in frustration at my pitiful attempt to decrease the space between us. My face reddened in effort, as I feared for the worst. Then there she was.

Her arms were like charcoal, her long blonde locks were singed to her scalp, her clothes ripped and torn still radiating heat, scolding her soft sore red flesh. Her eyes were blank and empty, tears of anguish still streaming down her small gentle features.

I slung off my worn, brown jumper in a swift quick motion wrapping it around her carefully. Cradling her, I brought her head to my chest, now realising how young she truly was underneath the soot that concealed every inch of her skin. Her eyes fluttered open, she extended her hands out, "momma?" she whispered, so quietly and huskily it was barely audible. She was fading fast. "Yes honey, you must stay awake now, don’t close your eyes" I said affectionately, attempting to cover up my underline panic. Then she began to scream releasing her torment and suffering, the very sound pulled at my heart, wishing for that blissful ignorance. I picked up the pace, searching for those shiny, yellow lined trucks, straining to hear there sound, the "nee-naw" of the sirens, the grinding of wheels on the road, my saving grace.

I tapped on the nearest police officer shoulder forcefully, oblivious to the girl’s silence. "Help me, help me please!" I yelled, "She had an accident, caught alight" I said breathlessly, glancing down. Then I saw her. Her thin pink lips were open wide in a prolonged silent scream. Her eyes once so pure now looked up at me with nothing but emptiness, there was no longer that free dancing sprit dancing behind her eyes, she was gone. Her life had slipped through my fingers.

"I never even knew her name" I wept.

****

Her name was Alice Krosby and she is the forgotten victim of the riots, and this is her story.

By Lola White