Is there a classical text that inspired your writing?
I wasn't inspired by traditional literature but I was inspired by Voltaire’s painting of Mount Vesuvius.
The Sky’s Choice
Awakening to the sound of sirens, I slide out of bed, checking my phone. The light from the screen is almost too bright; it’s 2:35 AM. I wander into my cluttered living room, tripping over a slipper, and spot a dark figure by the window: my mother. She is staring out the window while talking on her phone. I walk over to the window, curious as to what she is looking at. As my eyes adjust, I see a fire at a distance mixed with the midnight purple sky. Not believing my eyes, I walk to the kitchen. I yank at the door on the fridge and grab a pitcher of water. While I pour water in a cup, I look at my mom; she is now off the phone. I need to know what’s happening and I fully intend to pick her brain.
“What’s happening?” I ask. She stands for a minute, placing her phone down. “There was an explosion. Honey your father is over there,” she replies with a sad look plastered on her face. I stare at the counter, trying to compose myself, processing what she said. She steps into the light, her face drowsy, and I notice the bags under her eyes. She walks to the bedroom muttering “There’s nothing we can do right now. I’m going to the room. I will let you know if I hear anything.”
Enchanted by the sky, I decide to sit outside, thinking the cold air would be useful. I sit by the side of my house near the eerie river. I watch the flames envelop the clouds and soot damage the air; the picture seems surreal. I know what’s happening over there, people rushing to set out the flame cautiously making sure no one is trapped. My father might be there. Our strained relationship is beside the point this morning. My mother hates him, and rightfully so. But, it doesn’t matter what he did to my mother, he was still my father. I pick up my phone to call my friends. Ivory is the only one that picked up, which is fine considering she is the only one I want with me. “Precious. It is way too early for this,” she says as soon as she picks up. “I know, I know,” I say, “but look out the window.” There is a 5-second pause and a considerable amount of shuffling until she gasps. ”Oh my God.” I can tell she can see what I am seeing.
“Where are you?”
“I'm on the porch. Come join me” I plead as she groans in protest.
“Fine. I'll be out in a bit”
Knowing that she wouldn’t change her mind, I go back to staring at the opposite side of the river. I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone was hurt. It doesn’t seem like a fire - there are flames, but it feels artificial. I think of my dad. What was he doing? All I know is that he worked across the river where the explosion seems to have started. I think of giving him a call. Would he pick up? Before I have a decent chance to think about it, Ivory sneaks up behind me.
“Hey silly.” I let out a weak “Hi” and proceed to stare at the scene in front of me. “I'm sure he’s fine,” she assures me. “I guess.” I smile weakly.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” She gives me a quizzical look.
Being the one who knows everything about me, she can tell when I am lying.
“Let me rephrase. What are you feeling?”
“Fear, I guess.”
“Why?”
I look at her with her bright eyes even in the dead of night. Ivory is an aspiring psychologist, she’s good at analyzing and listening. She took a course over the summer and ever since then she has been testing out her skills on me. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind being a test subject but I’m not used to sharing my thoughts. When she says those words something inside me snaps like a bent silver spoon that just broke. She rubs my back as I cry on her shoulder. It isn’t like me, but Ivory, she grounds me. She makes me human. As tears sting my cheeks, she wipes them away with her pinky, unbothered by her tear-soaked clothes. She knows why I’m crying, she is the only friend who knows.
“It’s okay, it will be okay.”
“I-I ca-can’t do this. M- my dad he’s ov-ver in the fire,” I stutter. I look up at the sky. Where were the birds? Everything is spinning out of place. I can’t feel myself anymore as I slip out of consciousness.
I think of a man - tall yet short, old yet young and crude yet subtle. When I saw him a few months ago, he seemed almighty. He saved me from the fire and the storm. A whirlwind. A gust. A tragedy.
I should have noticed the symptoms before. I was too busy studying my mother, the pilot who walked down the hall to my bedroom door with her plain low black heels, fitted slacks, and a navy blue suit with a white blouse underneath. A blue hat marked with a wing pin, the same one on her suit adorned her hat. She was beautiful in the suit, her lips were glossed with purple matte lipstick that paired perfectly with her dark skin tone and brown eyes. She waved goodbye and kissed me on the forehead. I watched the pilot go off, leaving me to my thoughts.
‘BOOM’. The sky was furious, my head was pulled opposite from it like a magnet. I couldn’t make out what caused it; all I craved was the ground. I had crashed, colliding with the ground and when I opened my eyes I was in the hospital. The sky yearned to wreak havoc and cause pain, separation. It seemed to be full of anger. Ivory didn’t even know. She didn’t know how to stop it. I couldn’t see but I felt her hand running through my loose curls. I loved her.
Laying on the hospital bed, unaware of the severity of my disease, I wondered what mama would do if I went towards the sky without her. ‘No.’ What is wrong with me? She would be sad, disappointed, mad, that I didn’t stay. I thought of my mom in the sky. She was a pilot. I wondered what it was like - flying with the birds. I’ve never been on a plane before. Her boyfriend was a flight attendant. I enjoyed his presence; he was always reciting mini speeches from work. “There is an unexpected tropical storm causing turbulence. Sit down in your seat folks and put away any items that might fall.” The sky took them away from me every day. I loved them. Mom would get ready with her pressed uniform, equipped with a curling iron to tame her unruly curls, carefully tucking them under her hat. The two worked for the same airline and met at a convention. I knew they would come see me as soon as they could. I didn’t know if my dad would come see me. My dad... well, I don’t know what he does. I never have. All I know is that he is compelled to work all the time. Sometimes the sun swallows him, sometimes the moon. It's the reason why I don’t see him very often.
Maybe I was being punished. Maybe the man and the sky don’t want me here..
` “Keep climbing”
“What?”
“Keep climbing. Until you’re safe” It was the almighty man again. He always saved me. But did he save my father too?
My eyes flutter, the scent of coconut fills the room. We are in Ivory’s room. She must’ve noticed my hand twitching because she turns to me abruptly “Precious, finally sleeping beauty, you’re a heavy sleeper.” I smile a genuine smile but don’t say anything for a second.
“What happened?”
“You fainted. I brought you here, I hope you don't mind. My mom was a little mad. She didn't understand what possessed me to go outside with a fire so near.” She lowers her tone. ”She’ll get over it. But you had a panic attack and you passed out and to top that off you were really tired.” I recognize that look. It is pity, a common face nowadays. I can recognize the emotion anywhere after being diagnosed with a silent assailant threatening to sacrifice me to the sky - Addison's Disease. A tragedy. I slowly stand up, turning to the direction of the window. “Is my father-” My eyes widen. I should have read her face when I woke up. I choke back tears. He died in the fire. Did he sacrifice himself? Maybe he is a hero. Is this what the man wanted? To rip me away from my dad? Is this what the sky wanted? The sky isn’t red or orange anymore, just blue, a different blue not one we’re used to. It is almost serene. No sirens, no drama, no setbacks. I have been freed from the sky’s tests, its threats and I never intend to be chained to it again.