Ashes And Embers

Fear. Vulnerability. Poverty. The world was reduced to the ashes of the burning vengeance. Screams could be heard from miles. People were running on the streets for their lives. The windows of the houses were closed. The doors were locked. Children were no longer playing in the parks. After all, when the fire of revenge sparks, it burns not just one side of the ground but the other side too. It all started when the Eltherians suddenly started attacking our country. They were powerful, barbaric and merciless. They first targeted the backbone of our economy— the oil reserves, the refineries, and then proceeded to attack the parliament and assemblies. One day we were freely roaming on our streets and the next day curfew was announced. In a day our lives changed. "Within an hour, Roseanne. I want you to cover the entire news." Kennedy Bennett, my boss ordered me. I nodded my head, almost forgetting I was on phone as I grabbed my keys and thrusted the hurriedly-wrapped bread in my purse. "On my way, Bennett." I said, disconnecting the call. Just when I was about to open the door, a voice stopped me from behind, making me turn around and face the source of the voice. "Going to the site again? I thought the curfew was announced for everyone." Victor, my room-mate and also my paying guest said, leaning against the doorframe of his room, dressed in a pair of dark pants and a grey sweater. I sighed, playing with the keys in my hand as I took a step forward. "Everyone except the journalists and doctors." I corrected him. "I need to report the scene, Victor. And you know how our wages are already reduced to the half of what we used to receive before. And if I don't report to work now, I won't get paid. And I am barely left with any money for even groceries, let alone any kind of emergencies." Victor's usually soft brown eyes turned slightly darker. Without glasses in front of his eyes, he suddenly looked different to me. The naive, soft-hearted Victor suddenly had an impending look in his gaze. "So you will sacrifice yourself for money?" "Who isn't?" I replied back with a smile, making his jaw tick. "Rose—" "I am getting late, Victor. The breakfast's on the table. And please lock the door. If anyone got to know you're also an Eltherian, they might lynch you. Please stay safe." I said, looking into his eyes as I pressed my lips together before offering a soft smile, almost vulnerable and helpless— "I'll be back before the sunset." Before he could've said anything any further, I opened the door and left, leaving a worried looking Victor behind. --- Regret was the first emotion that coursed deep inside my vein when I heard gunshots outside the office we were all hiding in. We were five people under a single table, trembling and praying of either easy and painless death or a rescue operation. But knowing the Eltherians, none of the options looked possible. Loud noises of gunshots, people screaming in the background, noises of boots thumping against the ground made my heart beat a thousand miles per second. And slowly the noise of my heart beating inside my chest and the screams outside became one. Suddenly I was no longer the twenty-two year old Roseanne Esther. Instead I was the seven-year-old Roseanne who would lock herself in her wardrobe when her parents fought loudly, threw dishes on each other. Suddenly I was no longer an adult, but a child pressing her head between her knees, wrapping both her arms around herself, rocking the little girl inside her to sleep, to not fear, to tell the child inside her that this too shall pass away. "f**k, they are marching inside. We need to get out of here." I heard a voice behind me, making me snap back to reality. And that's when I registered the footsteps heading inside the office. "But we are surrounded. There's no way we would make out of here alive." I heard another trembling voice cry, making me bite my lower lip in fear, looking around. "There's a way." I suddenly said, looking around to nod at my colleagues. "There's a way to get out of here. The basement. There's a basement in this office. There's no way they can find out about the basement. It's door is hidden behind Robert's library." "A hidden basement?" One of the men asked me and I nodded my head hurriedly, looking around once more before getting out of the table. "A hidden basement. We need to rush to Robert's cabin before the Eltherians get here. We just need to reach there without them knowing and we can stay there until they leave this area. It's the only way." I said, clenching and unclenching my fingers to get rid of the numbness in them from the anxiety of getting caught. But the real problem was reaching the Robert's cabin. Because to reach there we had to cross the common corridor to get there and it's surrounded by transparent windows. "We need to duck down and keep our footsteps light. Remember, keep your bodies down." I said, and they nodded their heads as we started heading towards the common corridor. With gunshots echoing outside, large rocks breaking in through the broken windows, and noises of men laughing outside, it was getting difficult to keep the cries and screams inside. And just when I thought, we almost crossed the corridor, my eyes fell outside the window— on the seven men, perhaps laughing at something one of them said. They were the head of the terrorist groups. They were the Eltherians the world feared. But it wasn't the seven men that caught my attention, it was a particular person in that group that made my legs freeze in their place. It was the striking familiarity of one of the Eltherians with my room-mate. For a second I felt scared for him. A thought of Victor being caught by them made my heart wrench. For a second, I almost froze, contemplating whether to plan my own escape or go down and help him. For a second, I almost yelled his name, telling him that he was not alone. But suddenly something caught my eyes, making my blood run cold. Victor wasn't pleading or crying. He was smiling and laughing with the Eltherians there. And that's when I felt my fingertips turning cold and numb. And ten seconds into blankly staring outside the window, forgetting about the loud gunshots, I gasped. It wasn't a coincidence. It was him. It was my room-mate and my paying guest— Victor, who was smiling at something one of them said. And my blood ran cold at the realization. Victor was one of them. He was one of the terrorists. --- I met Victor almost a year ago. We both were recruited at the same time. We were even on the same team. Being a foreigner and that too from an enemy country, he was bullied by our colleagues and upper management alike, if not worse. Back then, he looked innocent, gullible and vulnerable in a new country where everyone hated him for his nationality. As someone who got bullied her whole life for being poor and living in a slum, I saw myself in Victor. A man struggling to make his ends meet; a man struggling alone against everyone. And slowly I started developing a soft corner for him. Random offers to have coffee together turned into taking meals together frequently. Our professional relationship turned into friendship real quick. He was sweet, innocent, clumsy and nothing inside him screamed of danger to me. When he shared his problem of the landlord kicking him out, I offered him a place to stay and he accepted it while paying me a monthly rent of 30 dollars. Though the rent was almost measly, the country was facing financial and economic crisis due to the sudden war waged against us. Never in my twenty-two years of life, I would've ever imagined Victor Thorne to be one of those monsters. The man with sweet, innocent smile, who always wore baggy clothes and had a pair of glasses guarding his eyes was too vulnerable in my eyes to even kill an insect, let alone human beings. But the man I saw between seven people wasn't the timid person I saw myself in. This one looked more confident, powerful and strong. Not just physically strong but strong with powers to bend an entire country down. He was strong enough to make millions of people stay hidden in their houses. And that moment, I realized something I wish I realized a year ago. Victor Thorne wasn't a victim, he was a perpetuator of terror and dread. The very man I sheltered under my roof, cooked food for, watched many movies with, was not any random person. Despite everyone telling me to not house a foreigner, that too from our enemy country, I let my conscience be clouded by my stupid heart. And just like that, I became the victim of my foolish empathy. "Roseanne!" I snapped out of my misery when a colleague of mine called me out but it was too late. The man outside the office looked up. His familiar brown eyes met mine, this time with an unfamiliarity that sent chills down my spine. And for the first time in the past eleven months, I trembled at the mere eye contact with my room-mate. It was too late to get rescued. It was too late for us to hide. Because their men surrounded us by all the sides. Guns pointed towards us, barbaric smiles mocking our safety and life, they started advancing forward and I felt terror dwelling inside me, pulling me down the chasm of fear that only ended with death. For a second my entire life flashed in front of my eyes. Death danced around me like a storm waiting to break. I could feel my breath coming out harshly and painfully fast. The distance between us kept reducing until the guns were directed straight between our eyes, barely leaving an inch between. I closed my eyes to brace for the impact but instead of feeling the searing pain of the bullet, I felt warm fingers wrapping around my wrist. A choked cry for help escaped my lips. My knees felt weak, almost giving away to the urge of falling down. I could feel my heart beating faster than it ever did. I felt the demons of death lurking past me. Touching me, whispering in my ears— now is the time. "Open your eyes, Rose." With those words I felt a tug on my wrist, pulling me flush against the man I feared the most in that moment. Victor Thorne.