Trevor Jenkins, a reclusive individual, appeared to have everything he wanted in life as the only son of a millionaire. However, behind the picture-perfect facade was a darker reality filled with bitterness and hate that seemed impossible to overcom...
THE GLOWING EMBERS LEAPED AND TWIRLED IN A FIERY DANCE, TWINKLING LIKE THE STARS IN THE DARK SKY.
It shone with glory and pride, illuminating the darkness. Thick, grey smoke billowed upwards, the once blue sky now shielded by a mask of darkness. The flames licked the oxygen with their wrath, refusing to be contained. They danced in orange and red colours, hungrily searching for fuel. The fire had no mind or pity, consuming whatever came across its path. It licked the walls of the house, burning the grass to a bleached yellow colour. The outside was alit with the smell of burning cedar.
A window suddenly blew out, sending glistening shards of glass onto the unkempt yard. Frightened, my fingers clutched and entwined in my woolen blanket, gripping it as if my life depended on it -- and maybe it did. But, as I stared up at the flames that engulfed my home, scorching and singeing the surrounding trees, what I needed wasn't a blanket, but the reassurance that my mother was okay.
A scream ripped through the night; the kind that would make your blood run cold. It pierced my brain, making the hairs stand up straight on the back of my neck. It echoed through the estate, filled with terror. Feeling the blood drain from my face, I tried to get up but realized how futile it was when I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. Sharp pain laced through my head and colourful spots flashed in front of my eyes. It felt like my whole body had been beaten and every movement caused some muscle or bone to ache, but I pushed through it, determined to help my mother. I couldn't leave her in there, I wouldn't - not like those firefighters that were just standing around, doing nothing.
"Trevor, no!"
A hand grasped my arm and tugged me back just as I went to run. I struggled in the unknown person's grip, digging my feet into the ground. I was going to fight with everything I had to save her and no-one was going to stop me. I wasn't going to sit around and watch my own mother burn alive when I could have at least tried to save her.
"Let me go!" I screamed, "Let me go! My mom is in there!"
My words turned deaf to their ears and they only tightened their hold on me, wrapping both of their arms around my torso and all-but dragging me backwards.
"You can't go in! It's too dangerous!"
The world seemed to turn into a blur and a desperate scream ripped from my throat. My skin craved the comfort of my mother; the feeling of her warm arms wrapped around me. I wanted to see her smile, and hear her soft voice telling me that everything would be okay and that she was safe.
But she wasn't here.
I sank to my knees, my tears raining down on the parched soil. My gasping wails echoed in the silent night. My small fists were clenched so tightly, I could feel the sweat trapped inside them. With each sob that ripped through me, my shoulders wracked with emotion, demanding to be felt.
Poor child.
It must be awful for him.
It's never easing losing a parent that young.
Their pitiful whispers caressed my ears, but I blocked them out. Nausea swirled, unrestrained, in my empty stomach. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of me, and I was left feeling hollow and numb.
"Mom?" a silent whimper escaped my lips, "Please come back. Please? I need you."
Our home was now like something out of a horror movie, twisted plastic and charred wooden posts, nothing to salvage. The air smelt of burning, acrid, chemical infused and choking. My eyes moved from face to face in the gathering crowd, showcasing their horror. Hands clamped around their mouths, I tried looking for father, aching for the comfort of a parent's arms, but he was nowhere to be seen. Noisy wails echoed the night sky and drops of saliva dripped from my upper teeth and dribbled down my chin whilst all I could do was watch. I imagined her somewhere upstairs, banging on a door, begging for someone to help, her cries going unheard. Her lifeless body would soon drop to the ground and she would be engulfed in a shower of hungry flames that would lap at her skin until there was nothing left.
The final blow arrived a few seconds later. Scorch marks appeared, the heat so intense that all moisture was driven sky-bound. The smell dominated every breath and the flames were louder than I expected, roaring as they consumed what was once my home. Orange flames blew out the the doors and sent horizontal jets of flame out ten feet or more. The rich oaky smell of the fire permeated the night sky, wisps of silver grey smoke curling upwards.
And while father and I were being held back outside, mother was the one person who didn't make it out.
****
if you're reading this, hi ily and thank you for choosing to give my book a chance. i genuinely cannot express how much it means to me so see another person even give it a single read, vote or comment.
i appreciate it so much, and i hope that if you do decide to continue, you'll love it as much as i've loved writing it.
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*edit: when is everybody's birthday? leave an inline comment on your month - i want to wish you all happy birthday!
january february march april may june july august september october november december
also, just gonna pop this short playlist in here (what i listened to while writing this book)
before you go - lewis capaldi
if the world was ending - jp saxe & julia michaels
