Come Back Home

It had all happened so suddenly. One moment I was lying comfortably in bed, blissfully dreaming and awaiting a new day, and the next I was rushing towards the exit of a burning building with only the warning from the first plumes of smoke reaching my nose as a head start. It was just me and my daughter in the house. At eight years old I was pretty sure she knew what to do in the instance of a fire, but that didn't stop me from panicking. With the ever thickening smoke beginning to starve me of oxygen, I sprinted down the corridor and checked the room that belonged to her just in case. No-one was inside. I scanned the room again, taking in the pink wallpaper, the array of stuffed dolls strewn across the floor and the empty four-poster bed, and confirmed my suspicions. I can still remember how good the sweeping wave of relief that hit me felt as I thought her to be safe. But I learned the hard way that nothing lasts forever.

With a new clarity of mind and only myself to worry about, I left the room, barrelled down the small staircase towards the front door ahead that was lit up by the flames slowly consuming everything around me, and charged straight through it knocking the wooden door off its hinges as I broke free of the hazard behind me. Trying to control my erratic breathing, I took a deep breath and filled my lungs with the country air that now surrounded me, trying my best to inhale without coughing and spluttering in the process. It's spring, and the cool, early night wind that blows through is a welcome change to the less than comfortable furnace I was trapped in not long ago. But there was one thing I was still concerned about – one small detail that prevented me from being truly content.

"Julia?"
The night sky was clear of clouds and a bright full moon bathed my surroundings in light so, even without any artificial lighting around, I could see everything clearly. The patch of daisies growing in the small garden in front of the house; the neighbours and townsfolk who'd come with buckets of water to help control the fire; the roaring inferno that continued to relentlessly swallow up all that I had – apart from the blaze, everything seemed to be under control. Almost as it should be. I'm sure someone called my name at some point; a person who cared about my well-being and wanted to check up on me maybe. But that person was somewhere far away in a land that didn't matter to me at that point. I could make sense of the chaos, but I couldn't make sense of the distinct lack of a small, blonde-haired, green-eyed girl by my side.

Before anyone even had a chance to see if I was okay or stop me from moving, my feet were carrying me back into the firestorm from which I'd just escaped.
"Julia!" I cry out into the thick smoke and flames that raged all around me. My skin was dry and charred and I was beginning to feel light-headed, but the burning desire to make sure my daughter was safe drove me forwards.
"Julia! Can you hear me?"
There was no reply. I could begin to feel a new dread creeping into my bones as I pushed further into the house. I couldn't lose her. Not her too. Not like this.
I moved further down the hallway towards the kitchen and attempted to shout out again as a flaming beam of wood came crashing down behind me. Exactly where I was a just few moments ago.

"Shit!" I say under my breath to myself, thinking how lucky I'd just been and how unlucky anyone trapped in here would be. I tried to call out once more, but this time I could only enter into another coughing fit as the dense smoke filled my lungs again. Just after I'd finished nearly coughing up my insides and managing to get a hold of myself, I heard something faintly over the crackling flames that sounded somewhat familiar. The sound was coming from the room to the right of me in the hallway that lead to the kitchen; the living room.
"Julia!" I shout, pushing through the living room door and ignoring the incessant pain in my chest from the smoke "Are you okay?"
"Daddy?"
I can't remember which emotion I felt the most at that point, but I knew none of them were important. Whether the respite of knowing the location of my daughter was stronger than the crushing anxiety of being aware of the danger she was in, I knew I had to take action.

"Daddy, I'm scared…"
"Don't worry, Julia! I'm coming for you!"
The mix of smoke, adrenaline and the pounding of my heart in my ears made me feel nauseous, but I persevered and looked around the living room. The situation didn't look good. The bookcases that used to stand in the corner of the room had fallen over and crashed in the middle of the small room and created a burning pile of wood and paper that prevented me from moving more than a few metres into the room. And to my horror, curled up in the opposite corner of the room attempting to shield herself with a book from the flames that threatened her life, was the last thing I held dear to me in this world.

I panicked. I'd been trying to keep it together for as long as I could but, at that critical moment, I cracked. The growing flames around us licked their lips and threatened to eat us alive. I could see for myself the very real danger my daughter and myself were in right in front of me as I began frantically searching for something I could use to get past the burning wreckage. But there was nothing in sight that could be useful and not engulfed in flames. All I wanted to do was run through the blaze and lift my child away from this terrible night, but I still had enough sense to realise that was impossible. Dying was not an option. I had to make sure I was still breathing when Julia and I made it out of this.

But, even with my intentions, I'll never be able to forgive myself for what happened next.
"Wait here and don't move! I'm going to get help!" I shouted in the general direction of where I thought Julia was hiding. I could still vaguely see her small, crouched figure in the corner and, even though there was no reply, I convinced myself she would be okay. At the most important time, I decided to be weak. I let her down. I ran back outside into the open air, coughing and wheezing, while the large crowd that had gathered outside my house attempted to tend to me. Paramedics, fire fighters and concerned faces were all set in place, consoling me and asking "Are you okay?" as the top half of the burning house collapsed, crushing everything beneath it.

                                          -----

Every night since I've had the same dream. I've relived those tragic events on repeat with no escape and no way to change the ending. What if I'd been braver? I could have confronted the flames and saved her too instead of just myself. What if I'd woken up a bit earlier? That extra bit of time could have been all I needed. Tormenting myself with these questions on every sleepless night had done nothing to console me and I'd travelled long and hard asking strangers for a salvation I knew no-one can provide. But at some point, I'd lost the will to fight and came to accept the end. No rest for the wicked and no-one to blame but myself. I always told myself that, as long as I could keep my promise and do everything in my power to keep Julia alive, I would have no regrets. There was nothing I could do to protect Maria on the day she gave birth to our child, but I swore I would do the last thing she asked of me.
"Never let her go, okay?"
Her gentle voice, the faint smile on her lips, her hand wrapped in mines – it was just one small, sincere request and I couldn't do it. The strength I'd gathered to fight my sorrow had finally dissipated. My fate was in my hands and it felt cold and hard. "Well, as long as I'm being selfish" I thought, a tear rolling down my face "let me ask for just one last favour".

"Forgive me, Julia."