Redemption
How far would you go to right a wrong?
I am, by no means naïve, nor am I in denial. I completely accept the reasons why I’m now alone; to a certain degree I would say I understand them. Yet this makes it by no means easier. As it happens, it makes it worse. I sit alone, in the local. People say hello, but they have no desire to sit and chat. They all know what I am, what I’ve done. I yearn to tell them, to explain I’ve changed. I was younger then, well not so much younger in years, but the experiences, they’ve changed me. Twenty-five years in prison seems to have that affect on a man’s soul. The pub is busy with activity, the air feels stuffy, an uncomfortable heat. The landlord is a friendly chap, big in both height and width. He has a kind smile, lined by a great grey wispy moustache. He is perhaps the only one who treats me with any hint of decency.
“Same again Giles?” he asks reaching for my empty glass, as if he already knows my response.
“No, no thank you Trev, I think I’ll get on, have an early night”. With that I drag myself from my stool, slightly unsteady on my feet.
Desperate to reach the exit I push through the mass of bodies, they don’t yield for me too pass. Its as if they purposefully try to obstruct my way. I politely try to get through; my persistence pays off as a small path is formed. A few nod, nothing more. Others, they stare expressionless, but I know all too well what they are thinking. Can I truthfully blame them?
I force open the heavy oak doors, for early December the night is mild, the slight breeze in the air sweeps over me, running through my dark coarse hair. It’s a long walk back home, but I’m glad, I find walking helps settle my troubled thoughts. I stumble along; the moon is bright lighting my way. The noises from the pub and the village slowly fade, and a comforting silence replaces it. The walk is tiring, I contemplate stopping to rest, I am sweating heavily now but I press onwards. I want to be home, to lock my door and escape.
The distant sound of screaming drifts towards me carried by the wind. At first I think it’s a trick of the mind, a mere game that the wind often plays with me. Then the screams get louder. They are no longer a trick of the mind; they are real, alarmingly real. Tiredness forgotten, I run. In the distance I see an orange glow, a glow I’m far too familiar with. It’s fire. I run faster now towards it, legs and arms pumping. I tumble around the final bend. The house looms in front of me, ablaze. Momentarily I stood frozen, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the fire. A loud tearing noise interrupts my daze, pulling me back to reality in time to see a side of the house crash to the ground. Screams continue to fill the air; the high pitch screech of terror resonates in my head. There is a crowd gathered, but no one seems to be doing anything.
I run towards the house, I don’t think about it, I just act. No one attempts to stop me but I didn’t expect them too. I’m at the door; the sheer heat of the building has already greeted me, daring me closer. I’m sweating again, kicking the once beautiful blue door down, I storm into the hall. The fumes rush over me, sticking too my face, clogging my throat. I lift my jumper to cover my mouth but it does little to help. A quick scan of the hall shows me things are not in a good way. The fire has spread through the bottom floor; the kitchen down the hall and to my left has flames leaping from the doorway. The living room on my right is currently untouched. But it’s empty. Inside the house the screams are nothing more than a whisper over the roar of the fire.
“Where are you?” I cry, but it comes out as a coughed splutter. No response, I move towards the stairs, they seem fit to crumble around me. I’m coughing worse now; the screams seem to have stopped. More urgently I will myself up the stairs. The second floor is worse, the fire skirts the floors rising gently, I no longer see the beauty in it. Now it’s a menacing snake swirling towards me. I meet it head on. A whimper in the bedroom furthest away reignites my hope. The door is slightly ajar; flames and smoke alike slither in. I try to move towards the door and then I fall. I consider lying there on the floor, inhaling the fumes that will surely finish me before long. I will not give in. I can’t. I won’t. I crawl to my feet, I focus on the dull pain in my arms where I cushioned my fall, it seems the only thing keeping me conscious. I find myself at the door, how I got there is nothing more than a blur. But I’ve made it.
I push the door fully open; flames follow me in licking at my heels, burning me. It’s a child’s room, that is instantly clear. Teddy bears sit seemingly untouched, unaware. Photos of a young family hang from the baby blue walls. But I’m only marginally aware of all this, for in the furthest corner of the room, a young girl is curled into a ball. Alone. My strength seems to return as I now run to her. She is so light in my arms as I lift her; she barely stirs, as if sleeping. Her light blonde hair is swept over her eyes, she looks somewhat peaceful. She is alive though, I do not know how I know this, maybe it’s just a fool’s hope but I have to get her free of this burning house. It occurs to me that her parents may be stranded else where in the house, but what can I do. As I leave the room the building seems to slowly deteriorate around me. I have to leave. Coughing, barely able to breathe I stagger to the stairs which miraculously are still intact. I’m halfway down the stairs; I can see the door in front of me. A final surge of strength and I’m free of the burning house. My vision blurs and my balance wavers. A man from the crowd rushes to me, its Trevor from the pub. I push the young girl on to him and fall. I hear the sound of sirens as I struggle for air; flashing blue lights illuminate the trees in the distance. I send a silent prayer that the girl will be saved, and then the tightness in my chest seems to ease, my senses seem to desert me. One thought lingers, Does saving a life make up for taking one? I don’t know the answer to this, I guess I never will. But as I close my eyes I feel almost content.
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