Bound By The Ashes

It had been six long months since everything changed. Six months since the crash that destroyed our world, since the flames and screams that haunted my dreams. The smell of blood and burnt metal, it never left me, sticking to me like a shadow. I watched my parents burn. Afterward, it was just Lina and me, living in a car that could barely run. Lina, so young at ten, and me, only fourteen. Overnight, I had to become everything she needed: her mother, her father, her protector, while secretly dealing with my own fears and tears when the darkness fell. Lina never saw my tears or knew of my fears. All she knew was that we had each other, and for her, that was enough. The orphanage offered us a roof and meals, but there was something sinister lurking there too—a man who watched me too closely, his smiles never reaching his eyes. I knew we couldn’t stay, especially one night when he came into our room. I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed Lina’s hand, and we fled. She never asked why, she just trusted me. We roamed through alleys and parks, found shelter under bridges and behind old buildings. Eventually, we stumbled upon an incredibly cheap house. It was almost like it begged us to stay, and I should’ve questioned why, but desperation clouded my mind. I took any job I could find to keep us going—cleaning, washing, sorting. Anything to make sure Lina stayed in school and we had food. I tried to hold onto some sense of normal life by attending school part-time. But exhaustion clung to me. I felt dizzy, my fingers cramped, my head ached constantly. Even simple things like brushing my teeth made my gums bleed. I told myself it was just from being tired and hungry; I couldn’t afford to be sick. But then Lina got sick, really sick. She couldn’t eat, and random bruises darkened her skin. I would hold her as she got sick over a bucket, both of us scared. Deep down, I already knew what it was. I took her to a clinic, using the last of our savings. My hands were so sweaty, I nearly dropped the envelope holding the last of our money. When the nurse asked if I wanted to be tested, I refused. What was the point? I already knew. Lead poisoning—coming from the very place that was supposed to be our refuge. The doctor said Lina’s levels were critical. I knew mine probably weren’t much better, but between my jobs and school, I spent little time there. Lina was home all day. I moved us to another place, tiny and run-down, but at least safer. It cost more, and I had to work more hours, dropping out of school because nothing else mattered. Lina’s spirit seemed to fade. Now, she lies on the mattress, her lips cracked, barely conscious. I can feel it—she’s slipping away. I kneel by her side, gripping her fragile hand, whispering, “Please, Lina, don’t leave me. I’m so sorry. I tried so hard.” Tears stream down my face. My chest feels like it's in a vice. I can hardly breathe. “I know I’m sick too,” I confess softly. “But I can endure it. She should have the chance to live.” I lean over her, trembling. “I’ll do anything. Let her live. Take whatever you want from me—please.” The room’s shadows seem to move. A chill creeps over me. I look up to see a man suddenly there. He seemed to just appear, as if the shadows opened to let him through. "I heard you," he says in a cool, smooth tone. "My master heard you." I grasp a broken lamp to protect us. "Who are you?" He doesn’t seem bothered. "A servant, with an offer." My heart races. My fear and exhaustion weigh heavily. “My master can heal her,” he says, “and you too. Remove the poison. Make you both strong.” I look at Lina’s pale face, her lips barely parted, skin nearly gray. “What does he want", l ask because l knew nothing came for free The man’s smile is anything but kind. "Your soul." I let out a harsh laugh, shaky and broken. "I think I lost it long ago." He gazes at me silently. I kneel again, gently smoothing Lina’s hair, feeling her burning fever. “I don’t care what happens to me,” I whisper. “If she can live, I’ll give him what he wants.” The man bows slightly. “As you wish.” And with that, darkness swallows us.