a house aflame

Mabel held her close to her body. The girl's self was ravaged of all its humanity, its purity and grace, all its existence. The tears slowed now, they were steady droplets collecting in the freshly formed pool of blood. The loud ruckus from outside began to seep through the bedroom. A shattering crackle of glass, then the muffled sound of erupting fire became too apparent for Mabel to ignore. She had to leave, and soon. "I love you my baby girl." Her voice was choked, though loud enough for her daughter to hear, even though she knew the girl could not hear, or move or blink. Belladie stared back with macabre emptiness as her mother closed her eyelids shut and finished her goodbye with a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Smoke was airing through now, hot and thick. Mabel got up to her feet. Her daughters blood, the only memento she had of her, now drenched her clothing. She stumbled to the door longing to look back, but knowing better not to. Mabel clasped her hand around the doorknob followed by a hand shaky regret. The door's heat exhibited that of Hell, impenetrable without deadly consequences. She finally mustered the courage, and broke through the door frame with three hard shoulder thrusts.

As Mabel broke through her room of safety, her air supply was snuffed out. Excessive hacking and coughing ensued as the first plumes of flames became storm clouds. The house that was once hers was now in flames. She crawled down the charred stairs, trying her best to savor the little oxygen not burned out in the atmosphere. A sudden shattering was heard as she slithered down the last step. The once glass bottle thrown, now exploded with such intensity, the wood floor that met its impact became only fuel. Mabel ran half limping to the kitchen glass door, which was still untouched by the fire's wrath. She slid the door open, only to be met with resistance. As she tugged and tugged, no amount of force would be able to slide it open, it was jammed.

Mabel looked for something to break the glass when she saw the chair. Whack after whack, the glass began to splinter. "Come on you son of a bitch!" Her feeling of frustration was beyond evident. After the fifth and final whack, the glass shattered in a dramatic display of shards and frame and cheers from the tired mother.

Mabel ran for the right corner of the house, trying to get to the road. A man in white greeted her there. His sheathed face bore another. Two simple red circles followed by a red smile. He was excited to kill her, his body shaking with anticipation. He drew a lighter and a ballerina necklace from his gown. "I'll tell you what, out of all the ones we had...she be my favorite." The man lit the jewelry, destroying the last thing tangible of Belladie. Mabel bit her lip and snarled her teeth. She was fuming to make him suffer as much as she had, make him beg for life, make him into nothing.

Her furious rage was interrupted when an eight inch butcher knife was unsheathed glowing in the moonlight. The man stood in place for a moment longer until the tense silence was broken. "She gonna be even better than you." He started to walk at a slow pace. Mabel began to backtrack when she tripped in a surface depression. As quick as she fell, she bounced back to her feet, making her way to the left side now. The man in white stopped his pursuit. Waving his blade back and forth, a sinister goodbye.

Her direction became rerouted when another blast of flame cut her off from the house. What seemed like hundreds of molotov cocktails rained down on her in a hailstorm of flame and glass and smoke. The men in white led the way for her as they threw their bombs.

Mabel ran to the cornfield with what little energy she had. The once green leaved stalks now subjective to the fires cruelty, ashened and charred. When Mabel was facing the stalks, she thought of Moses, begging God to grant her the ability to part this field. Instead, her body did the parting, scrambling through each stalk, leaving a messy scene of destruction behind her. The woman's already cut body brandished more slices with stinging wounds to the touch.

She walked a little farther, now a good distance in the field. Mabel was now shielded by the yellow husks, which were much taller than her. She stood in hushed silence, in a cold sweat from the sudden change of environment. Mabel then heard ruffling in the distance. The noise became closer and closer until finally it was cut off. A man's voice echoed with powerful intent. "And give relief to you who are troubled, and to us as well. This will happen when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven in blazing fire with his powerful angels." The man finished speaking as soon as he started when orange bulbs surrounded the field.

Mabel stood frozen, unsure of what her next move may be. A unison of the orange bulbs were dropped to the floor, coupled with orbs of light crashing down in Mabel's direction. "Shit!" Mabel side stepped her way from another fire bomb. She then tried to run, pleading for her body to move faster but to no avail, she was spent. Her bare feet cracked and slivered with dirt and debris, penetrating further into her skin with every step.

Mabel's last step twisted her ankle, she screamed in agony, leading her to fall to her knees. She began to sob, for her family, for her daughter for her life. There were no tears in her eyes though, not even moisture. A dry unrelenting heat cascaded over the surface, dehumidifying every last bit of water.

She crawled into the fetal position, longing to be held by a loved one. She thought of her last moments of life which she now knew was imminent. She thought of her husband dancing with her on their first date, her young son running into her arms after his first day of school. Fond memories she would never let go of until her dying moments, which was now. She closed her eyes and rolled her exhausted body over on her back, staring at the sky. It twinkled in a soothing manner, comforting her.

The ground was cool in the burning heat, begging to be laid on. She felt her eyelids shut and inhibitions diminish as she laid still, ignoring the symphony of chaos happening around her. Mabel was safe, now set free like a healed bird. Ready to take off to its new life where ever that may be. As she sat there waiting for the Reaper's skeletal hand, a single tear cascaded down her face. Another one soon followed suit, and then another, and then a fourth until finally a stream began dousing her in large volumes of water. Only these were not tears from her eyes, but the sky.

A slow rainfall began quenching the dehydrated earth. Mabel opened her eyes to see her skin and clothing now soaked in rainwater. The flames were now becoming smaller as well as the clouds of smoke that came with it subsided. A flicker of hope was now sparked as the inferno lessened to that of dying embers. Mabel went from her back with a new sense of rejuvenation.

The men in white were perplexed in the sudden change in weather. They screamed expletives, demising Mabel's doom. This did not fear Mabel though. She knew God was on her side, baptizing her in the scorched underbelly that was her coffin. She was reborn, leaving her dead self behind. She waded in the water for a few moments longer until being beckoned by a familiar voice, that of a loved one she knew would hold her. He would hold the new her.

To be continued....