Ruins

I rose at the crack of dawn, the sun just starting to rise and the sky a mix of pink, orange, and blue. There was no time to enjoy it, though. I had chores to attend to. 

It was summertime, and the hot air caused sweat to bead on the back of my neck as I lugged a bucket to the public fountain. It was difficult to avoid running into others on the road --as it was, the city was swarming with people, coming to celebrate the festival of Vulcan. I accidentally bumped into a woman, who quickly stepped away from me and went to join her husband. 

I saw, not too far away, people lighting bonfires. They were for the Festival of Vulcan, Vulcanalia. Soon fish and small animals would be thrown in the fires as sacrifices to appease the god so he wouldn’t consume us with his fire.

I hoped that Vulcan would be pleased. There had been tremors in the earth recently, and some worried that it was the gods showing signs of anger towards us. I noticed a few cracks by the fountain and on some of the buildings nearby. I wondered when they would be repaired. 

…

It was noon, and the heat was stifling as I stood by the oven. That’s where I was when I heard it.  

BOOM! 

Then… cheering.

 I ran outside to see what was going on. There was thick, black smoke erupting from the top of Monte Somma. Rivers of lava made their way down in trails of destruction as people celebrated, thinking it was a positive sign from Vulcan.

 That’s when the screams started. 

As lava poured down from the Monte Somma, I hurried outside. I was frozen in front of the bakery, back against the door as I stared at the mountain I’d seen every day of my life. I watched in horror as it shot fire and ash at us. 

Some still didn't know what was going on. They weren't close enough to realize that this wasn't a positive sign from Vulcan, but punishment instead. I could still hear the cheering in the distance as I watched rocks fall, crushing people beneath them.

I snapped out of my daze, pushing past people, not caring who they were, just knowing that I needed to get away. I had never been the athletic type, and before long I was stumbling along, tripping on loose stones in the road. My legs were aching, chest heaving, but I couldn’t stop. I needed to keep going, get out, get to safety. 

I heard the shifting of stones above me and looked up, tripping backwards, trying to get out of the way. But by then it was already too late. The stones came tumbling down on top of me.

I braced myself, but instead of stones I felt something pulling me, snapping me into place. The world seemed to shift around me. The ash filled sky was now blue. I pitched forwards at the sudden change. It felt as though someone yanked me from one world into another. But I was in the same place, facing an all too familiar mountain. 

I stepped back, bumping into something. I heard it tumble to the ground as it fell, shattering into a million pieces. It was the statue of a person, I realized. I searched the rubble for any intact piece, finally finding and carefully lifting up the face, which was not yet completely broken. There was something familiar about the shape of the lips, the slope of the nose. 

Mother

Dropping the face I hurriedly crawled backwards. I winced as I heard the sound of her face shattering. 

I turned away, trying to hold back tears. It was only then that I realized there were hundreds of these figures all around me. There was the woman who had bumped into me on my way to the fountain, and over there was her husband. Father was cowering by a building, the fear still visible in his eyes. As I wandered, I felt streams of saltwater running down my face, all my efforts to hold them back having failed miserably. 

There was a girl being crushed by rubble, just as I had been. A man held a knife in his chest, trying to end it before the mountain did. A mother and her baby. The mother was holding up the cloth of her dress to keep out the smoke and the baby’s mouth was stretched wide, wailing. 

Fear was stuck on all of their faces. It was familiar, the same terror I had felt as I realized that I was living my last moments. Except, I hadn’t been because here I was, alive. 

Why me? Why was I the only survivor? 

I asked myself these questions as I wandered through the destroyed city. I had subconsciously made my way towards the building that had fallen on top of me. As I studied it I realized there was a statue there. 

I moved to get a better look at it. It was a girl who looked to be about my age. She was cowering, arms above her head in a hopeless attempt at protecting herself. Her eyes were closed, her face twisted in an expression of horror and fright. It was only when I looked closer that I realized: 

She was me.