When The Birds No Longer Sang

My Father used to sing. He used to be livelier, like the birds that would awaken me from my slumber. But it is my fault that he no longer does. 

3:15 pm

Tris, Tekoah and I decided we’d do our homework at my house. I came through the door with my Father glued to the news. I took a glance at it not thinking anything of it. 

3:20 pm

I was sprawled on the floor of my bedroom with Tris and Tekoah who kept chattering on and on about trains. I rolled my eyes, got up, and peered outside. Something seemed off. Almost eerie like. I motioned for Tris and Tekoah to come to the window. They noticed it too. It was absolutely silent. The birds weren’t singing. The sky was dark. A plume of smoke was rising, making its way through the trees to meet the sky. I sniffed, my nose burned. At that moment my Father pushed open the door, he was gasping, fear glazed his eyes. We knew. We had to go.

3:30 pm

We all rushed into the minivan, the wheels turned and skidded as my Father drove us further and further away from home. We tried hopping onto the highway but the haul of evacuees stunted our survival. We turned around, hoping, and praying for another road to freedom. But we were too late. The savage flames gnawed it’s claws at us. We were surrounded. 

3:40 pm

We didn’t have much time, the fire was just a few car-lengths away. Devouring everything in its path and we were in its way. Tekoah pointed towards the abandoned train yard at the bottom of the slope, off the road. I was puzzled, why would he- wait. I knew why. He was crazy. He stared at me waiting for a reply. I said, “Fine, but I still think you’re crazy.” I half grinned. We all slammed the doors of the minivan, Tekoah darted towards the train-yard. My Father briefly looked at me. I just nodded to him as we sprinted down the slope. Tris was the quickest. She hopped onto the train engine, signaling us to hurry up. 

3:51 pm 

Tekoah somehow got the aged train to work. 

3:58 pm

 Tekoah was driving this old steam train, I was impressed that he knew anything about steam engines. Though I did know his Father was a conductor. But still. 

3:59 pm

 The train burst forward through the mass of fire and smoke. The clickety-clack of the wheels made me want to drift to sleep. But I knew I couldn't. The conflagration wasn’t over yet. I peeked out the train door the fire was still on the move, growing closer and closer by the minute. It didn’t help that the wind kept on changing its mind. I redirected myself, trying to squint through the blanket of haze...I couldn't believe what I saw. A burning bridge. I stood, paralyzed. 

4:10 pm

“Uh, Tekoah...you might want to look at this.” My voice barely audible. He peered out where I was looking. His eyes widened in alarm, “Crap!” He’d exclaim, Tekoah slammed on the brakes, we all lurched forward, the train screeched and groaned. But we were too late. We were going across this burning bridge. 

A day before, I woke to the sound of birds singing and the aroma of my Father’s cooking. This small town was my home. Nothing interesting happened here. Except when my friends and I were up to something. My parents would always scold me for being me. I would tell them, “Well you the ones who made me exist.” Usually quite sarcastically. Sometimes I felt as if it was my fault that my parents left each other in the dust. The guilt clinging to me like an unwanted tick. I dragged myself out the door to the bus, the day waiting for me. And of course Tekoah and Tris, they sat patiently in our usual spot in the back of the bus. 

A small town. Nothing interesting happens in here. Ever. 

Oh, how wrong I was. 

4:12 pm

The train halted to a stop. Our eyes fixed on one another, none of us blinking or moving a muscle. My gaze fell onto my Fathers honey brown eyes. I wanted to tell my Father that I was sorry. I wanted to tell him how much I missed Mother, wanted to tell him that I miss the days when he sang. They say not to have regrets. That life is short. How I wish I had listened.  

4:13 pm 

The bridge moaned. Then our fears came true. I watched as my Father and Tris hurtled out of the train in slow motion, I tried to follow. But trying, wasn't enough. 

4:14 pm

I felt the train pull me down with it, plunging towards the ground. Tekoah and I were now free falling, we were helpless. We didn’t have any say in our survival. We were the ones unable to escape. My Father was chosen. Not me. Not Tekoah. Why? I asked myself. Each of us trying to escape are own fire. You know, guilt is a funny thing, it’s almost impossible to escape. Little did we know that some of us are chosen to escape, while others aren't so fortunate. 

4:14 pm

My mind was enveloped in darkness and a violent pain tore through my whole body. 

5:30 pm

My eyes fluttered open, I could see a blurred figure. That looked like my Father. I tried to focus but I couldn't. It hurt so much. I let my head rest in the palms of his calloused hands. Glowing embers floated in all directions around him, he let out a sharp cry but I couldn't make out what he was saying. All I knew was that I would never hear him sing again. 

I tried getting up but I couldn't feel anything. Nothing at all.