"Get into the craft"
He bellowed down the hall. Sirens wailing and the red light flashing down the halls, I could hear the screams of others, I could hear the screeching of the wind against the metal as it fell and I can feel the tension building.
I can feel the fear and the pain is high and I understand that it will never be the same again.
Nothing will ever be the same again; nothing will be what I think of as normal again. I can feel it falling down around me, the inevitable is coming.
I don't understand how to get there. I don't know which way the crowd is flowing. I can't see through the see of people. I know why everyone is running. I know that I am scared; very scared.
A warm hand clasps around my hands as I stand frozen in the crowd. The crowd pushes against us and I cling tightly to the hand as I know the feeling of the fingers against mine.
My mother, it is her hand. Her hand is strong and it makes me relax. She moves me over towards a wall, getting down onto her knees and looking at me. My mother is beautiful; her face is looks as though it was carved by the hands of angels. She stands above me like an angel beside me, holding onto my hand as she looks into my eyes with her deep soothing brown.
"My darling." She utters in Russian, her pink lips are flustered and her pale skin looks so fair in the light.
"Pasha," she whispers. I can hear her even though there is noise filling the sky and ash raining down on us.
"Get in the craft!" Yells the voice again and I feel my mother squeeze my fingers again.
I look deep into her eyes and I see the pain that is filling them. I see every detail and every flaw within the hazel. I see where there are dark places and where the light bounces off the speckles of green. I see a single tear begin to form as it rolls down her cheek. I see that there is pain in her face and it hurts me like nothing else in the world to see my mother cry.
"I love you." She whispers, pressing her cold lips onto my forehead and I feel something catch in my throat. I feel the pain of her words, catching in my voice and I cannot speak.
"I love you mum." I utter back in Russian into her hair as it curtains my face as she embraces me.
Her arms are warm and they make me feel happier than anything else in the world. I know she is true in her words, just as I am true in mine.
She pulls away and I feel her breath catch in her throat. I feel that she is struggling as she forces a smile onto her porcelain face. I know that she is stricken in her emotions.
"I will always love you." She says as she pushes herself up into a standing position. She keeps her firm grip on my hand and I stay strong for her.
We run, we run with the crowd as it flows past us and we run like there is no tomorrow. I can feel the ground shaking; I can feel everything around me is shaking. I am shaking. I have no idea what is going to happen to us now.
The people are crowding around a small door, pushing and shoving to try and get in. I can tell that not many more people will be able to fit into the space where they are pushing. I look up to my mother, she moves me in front of her as we try and squeeze through the crowd. I look up before myself and I see my father, he is yelling for people to get into the compartment. I raise my arm to him, seeking his comfort in this time of confusion. He takes my hands as he flicks a glance down to me. I don't know what to think about the way he takes my hand and pulls, he stands in the doorway and he pulls my arm, squeezing me through the people so that I am beside him, crowded with all the people in the compartment.
I feel her fingers are sweaty, her hands clasp tightly around me but her arm is slipping. I can feel that she is failing, I want to hold onto her but I cannot keep my grip.
"Closing the doors!"
I hear the commander yell, I hear my father yell the words and it sends coldness through my body. His hand does not feel warm. His smile does not look like a true smile and I know that we are moving off, the doors are closed and I know she is on the other side. I know that my mother is on the ground. I know the ship is moving. Everything is going in slow motion as we move off the ground.
I can see the building. I can see my mother in the fray, with her long and tangled brown hair. I see her eyes and I watch as they begin to fade from my sights as I draw a great distance away from her with the speed of the craft. Then my world falls.
A fiery ball of red light explodes upon the ground where my mother is, where my mother was, where my mother now lies dead.
I can taste it. I can taste the salty tears in my eyes, the pounding in my chest. I know that I am fighting back the pain and the torment is building up in my head.
I can never forget.