Burning Flames (Bellamy Blake)

Prologue

   When I was a child I lived a care free life, my father was on the council making our lives simple, privileged if you will. I spent everyday with my mother learning everything she knows. We would lounge about until my father came home then we would sit down to a family dinner and then watch some rerun movie from 100 years ago. That was my life for 15 years.  Until it all came crumbling down.

At the age of 12 my mother caught a simple cold, at least that's what I was told. Turns out for three years my mother was dieing from lung cancer. How she got it no one knows, all they did know was it was too late to fix. A week after I turned 15 I came home to find guards outside my door, and my father in tears being comforted by Chancellor Jaha and Abby Griffin, two friends and concil members. I didn't know why he was crying, but I wanted to see my mother so I slipped through the guards into her room. What I saw is something I'll never forget.
 
       My mother was dead, she didn't look peaceful as some told me she would. She didn't look like she was asleep. She had this look in her stone cold eyes that spoke of the pain she felt as she spilled her last breath of air. She looked tormented and afraid, and in some way I was happy she died. If it saves her from the pain, then im okay with it. But I was still a young child and I was a selfish one because no matter what pain she went through everyday I wanted her to stay. As it hit me like a freight train I fell to my knees and started to shake not even realizing that I was crying up a storm. I could faintly hear my name from somewhere behind me but all I could see was my mother's eyes.

     The eyes that looked at me with love everyday. The eyes that told me stories and showed me how to cook and mend a broken stitch. The eyes that belonged to my mother.
    
     I don't remember much after that. I just recall the feeling of someone picking me off the floor and carrying me away. I was frozen.  I stayed like that for four days, people worried about me eating and if I would ever come out of it. I didn't want to, I wanted to stay selfish and hide in the cocoon I made for my self.

     I hide away from the truth and the pain. But I woke up on that fifth day with a new thought. I was not alone. I had my father and he had me. I could no longer be selfish I had to be the person my mother raised me to be, I had to be strong.  
        
        That's exactly what I did.