Burning

Trinity stared out of her window, watching the rain drizzle down outside. The sun was gently beginning to melt behind the mountains in the distance, signalling the shorter days ahead. She was snuggled into a gray-fur blanket, and propped up on a plush pillow of the same color. Frequently, Trinity glanced down at the watch around her wrist, patiently waiting. 

    She looked up again at the window, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass. Sometimes, she would choose one, and root for her raindrop to win. 

    Trinity glanced once more at her watch. 4:15 P.M. Generally, Everett was awake at 9:30 A.M, but she simply couldn’t have waited another 30 minutes. 

    Blanket trailing behind her, Trinity abandoned her window seat and retrieved her silvery laptop off of her nightstand. She unplugged the charger, and made herself comfortable on her bed, propping the laptop against her blanketed knees. She pressed the power button, and the screen glowed to life, her powder blue wallpaper shining back at her through the screen. 

    Trinity pushed the Skype button, and then pressed call on her boyfriends profile. As it rang, Trinity prayed that Everett was awake. 

    The screen moved back out to a boy, barely waking up, sleep still clear within his eyes. 

    “Trin?” He asked, rubbing his eyes harshly, and blinking. He was in his family room, lying on the couch covered in blankets. 

    “The one and only.” Trinity replied, a smile playing on her lips. “I told you last night I was planning on calling.” 

    Everett simply shook his head. “You know I have a very bad memory.” 

    The two laughed, and chatter ensued. They talked about their days and their nights, and their plans for the following days to come. 

    The conversation then shifted. 

    “How’s Australia?” Trinity asked, feeling a lump in her throat. Was she going to cry? SHe gulped the lump back down into the recesses of her stomach. 

    Everett had only moved to Australia three weeks ago, due to his father’s business. Trinity remembered feeling like she was being ripped apart, and thrown to the wind. She would have to face senior year alone. Without her best friend. 

    Her boyfriend lit up. “It’s really exciting, Trin.” 

    And he launched into an explanation about everything, from the wildlife parks, to the ocean, zoos, and the food. His expression was beaming. He was happy. Trinity could tell. 

    But then he stopped being so happy. He held up his index finger and muted his mic, before leaving the view of the screen. Moments later, Trinity witnessed his mother shoving things into cardboard boxes. Soaps from beneath the kitchen counter, a hairbrush, washcloths, photographs. She threw open cabinet doors, and heaved papers inside, pile after pile, until another box was full. Her hands were shaking, her forehead sweating. She wasn’t tidying up, or packing. What was going on?

    “Everett?” She asked, confused. She knew he could hear her, since her own microphone wasn’t muted. She sat up in her bed, her mind racing with possibilities. 

    Hearing her voice, Everett’s mother turned and noticed her sons laptop on the coffee table. She rushed over and fumbled with the keys, before unmuting the mic. Trinity heard someone on TV talking, but it was covered by stern yells from Everett’s father. 

    The skype call ended. His mother had hung up on Trinity. 

    She tried calling back. No answer. Once more, the same ending. 

    Finally she set her computer aside and picked up her phone. She shot message after message at Everett, and a few at his mother. Minutes later, there were no replies. 

    So, all Trinity could do was wait. 

    She rolled onto her side in her bed, warm and covered in blankets, and replayed Everett’s frantic mother in her head. Cramming things into boxes, throwing open cabinets, sweating, shaking, panicking.    

    She couldn’t piece it together. 

    Trinity fell asleep quickly afterwards. Thoughts moving around in her head like a mixing cauldron, until finally it just shut off. 

    She shot awake. Throwing off her blanekts, she checked the time on her watch. 3:56 A.M. She stood up, and fished through her bedding for her phone, which had slipped beneath a pillow. 

    5 messages from Everett. 

    1 from his mother

    Dozens of emergency news reports from various news stations, and evauation lists for Australian cities and towns. 

    Trinity opened the messages from Everett. They were short. 

    Sorry. 

    Family Emergency. 

    I’ll talk to you when I’m free. 

    I love you. 

    I’m safe. 

    Trinity wasn’t completly assured. Everett never usually texted such small messages. It was out of place for him. Confused, and still scared, she opened the also shot message from his mother. 

    Our family is safe, and I thank you for your concern. While we are planning our next moves, we ask that you please give us some time and space. We will be traveling over the next few days/weeks, and won’t be using our phones regularly. 

    Traveling? Frantically shoving documents and family photographs into boxes didn’t seem like a simple family vacation. 

    An alert dropped down from the top of Trinity’s screen from her News app. 

    Australian Wildfires Cause Nation-wide Evacuations- Here’s the full story. 

    Trinity dropped her phone onto her bed. 

    Fire. The flames of her thoughts lept higher and higher within her mind, lapping at the curves of her skull. 

    Burning. Her skin felt like it was melting away, peeling off and falling like black ash to the floor. Her body was numb from the flames inside her brain. She could no longer feel. 

    Hot. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she fell onto the floor, making her eyes ache. She pulled herself into a ball, crying out for someone to save her. 

    She laid there for hours, falling in and out of sleep, and nightmares, and the horror of the life. She could imagine their 4 person family crammed into their tiny car, belongings spilling out of boxes in the backseats, gas pedal touching the floor. Maybe they were crying, too. News messages continued to pour in from her phone, but she couldn’t look at a single one. Her boyfriend and htier family were running. Running from their unsafe home, which could be burning to the ground, and running from their happy lives. Running from a fire. 

    Running from the unforeseen horrors of the real world.