I woke up to a loud noise crashing through the walls of our ramshackle house like waves of fury crashing on the shore. The cracking of wood, the screams of women, the rough commands-it all blended into a cacophony that sent chills down my spine. For the first moment I lay there, not realizing what was happening. I hoped it was just a nightmare that would soon dissipate. But the sound didn't subside, and soon I smelled a familiar odor: smoke. Thick, bitter smoke that penetrated my lungs and stung my eyes.
I jumped to my feet, looking around frantically for the source of the horror. Everything seemed strangely real. "Fire? Fire?" - a thought flashed through my mind. But as I ran to the door, I realized it was much worse.
There was hell in the street. People ran in panic, some screamed, some fell, and no one paid any attention to them. The flames, as if alive, were greedily engulfing the houses. One of them had recently housed one of my neighbors - I saw them treating each other to bread yesterday, and today their dwelling was turning to ashes, barely leaving a trace of them. Flying arrows cut through the night sky like black shadows of death, each one bringing death or injury to those who had not taken cover.
My heart was beating like crazy, ready to burst out of my chest. "Where is my mother?" - that question rattled around in my head like a drumbeat. I rushed back into the house, where it should still be safe, but she was nowhere to be found. She had always been there for me, always found me, even in my most difficult moments. But now she was gone.
- Mom!" I screamed, running out into the street again, into the maddening crowd of people. But no one heard my scream. No one stopped. They all ran - past me, past the flames, past those who were falling from the arrows.
I rushed to the nearest refugees, trying to ask if they had seen her. But there were frantic, panicked faces staring back at me, each one preoccupied only with his own life. Everywhere I turned my head, I saw fire and death. War had come to our home, and there seemed to be no escape.
What to do? Go where? Run? But where to? Where is my mother? There were no answers, and fear crawled into my mind like a poisonous fog. I remembered the forests that lay beyond the slums. Dark, dense, almost impenetrable forests that I had seen from afar but never dared to enter. Maybe I could hide there, maybe that's where my mother had run to.
The decision came suddenly. I'll run. I must. My feet carried me through the streets, past burning houses and dying people. Seconds turned into eternity, but I didn't stop. The pain in my legs and the burning in my lungs seemed petty compared to the horror around me.
On the way, I saw a woman falling to her knees right on the trail. Her clothes were covered in blood, her face contorted with horror and pain. An arrow was sticking out of her back. It was Mara. She was calling for Thomas, desperately, in a broken voice, but her screams were drowned out by the noise of the crowd. I slowed my step, but quickly realized I couldn't help. "I'm sorry," my mind raced. Gritting my teeth, I continued on my way. No one was safe here. It was every man for himself.
The fire grew brighter, the heat more unbearable, and I felt the shadows of war looming over me, ready to clutch me in their embrace. Arrows whistled overhead, and I involuntarily pulled my head into my shoulders each time, waiting for one to catch up with me. "Why is this happening? Why now?" - I thought, trying to suppress my panic.
But finally I saw what I was looking for-the edge of the slums and the darkness of the forest ahead. Behind me were flaming houses, dying people, and shattered hopes, and ahead of me was a black wall of trees, something frightening yet tantalizing. I ran into the forest, tearing through thick branches and bushes. Branches whipped at my face, thorns scratching my skin, but I kept running, hoping to find refuge in the darkness.
The forest was thick, almost impenetrable. The branches of the trees stretched out like crooked arms, trying to hold me back. The moonlight struggled to shine through the foliage, and there was absolute silence, save for the occasional sounds of forest creatures. It was scary and majestic all at once. I felt trapped, as if the forest was watching me with its ancient, wise eyes, assessing my fate.
The air was cooler here than in the city, but it felt heavy. I was panting, my heart still racing, and my legs didn't want to stop, but I knew I had to catch my breath. I stopped for a moment, leaned against a thick tree trunk, and looked around.
The night was impenetrable. The forest had a life of its own-it rumbled, whispered, breathed. Was it safer here than in the city? Who knows? But I had no choice. I took a deep breath, letting the cold air cool in my lungs, and thought about what had happened.
"Where is she? Did she escape?" - the questions still plagued me. I hoped she had found a way to escape, as I had. But what if she hadn't? What if she stayed there, in the fire, surrounded by enemies?
The forest looked like a scene out of a horror movie, and yet there was something comforting in its silence. I walked slowly forward, trying not to think of the worst. Here, among the tall trees that stretched into the sky, the world seemed alien and infinitely old. Every rustle, every crack of a branch underfoot seemed like a muffled voice, as if the forest itself were whispering ancient stories.
Finally, I found a large tree with a spreading crown and an abundance of fallen leaves at its base. The leaves were dry and rustled under my feet, but they felt warm and dense. I sat down with my back against the trunk and carefully covered myself with the leaves like a blanket. My fatigue swept over me in a wave, my body aching with exertion, but I felt a strange sense of peace under the leaves.
When I closed my eyes, I heard again the echoes of screaming men, the crackle of fire, and the whistle of arrows. But here, in the silence of the forest, it all seemed distant. I let my body relax, and soon sleep took me in its dark embrace.