Gypsy: Chapter 6

My eyes shot open in the darkness, the gypsy woman was curled against me, her body warm, but the smell of death wouldn’t leave my throat as I got up and rushed to the stream, throwing up. Death lingered in my mind, the image of my mother burned itself against my forehead as the tears fell into the rushing stream. My mother. I remembered my mother. My mind was at a loss and ungodly wails escaped from my lips. My mother.

The Rose awoke and crawled over to me, wrapping her arms around me. She had known all along. Her exotic aroma drew me back into a memory and I tried to fight my way out. I didn’t want to remember anymore, I didn’t want to know but soon a new darkness engulfed my mind and my mother’s body lay on the dirt floor before me.

~*~

The wailing escaped my mouth and the woman chanted louder, everything was spinning. I was spinning. I screamed at the women. They killed my mother, they were supposed to help her, they killed her, the village killed her. I screamed and grabbed the grass draped across the reeds, keeping the night air out. I pulled them down, tearing holes in the foundation of death. I threw them into the little flame, kicked away the stones and screamed. The fire danced and danced until it took half the hut into its swaying body. Women screamed and the chanting stopped. Shouts and cries surrounded me but I just watched the fire. I fed it more and more, enticing it to dance with me through the forest, to take the death that haunted me and engulf it into the eternal. Naomi screamed my name from outside the hut but I just watched the fire as it danced its way to me, the heat burned hotter than the noon sun and felt calming against my cold, trembling skin. The colors popped in the darkness; golds, reds and yellows all sang a sweet melody in my ears. A hand gripped my wrist and I was dragged out of the medicine hut that held my mother. It was Naomi, a firm grip on my forearm, tears and anger reflecting in her eyes. She was shouting at me, I could see her lips moving but I all heard was the fire. Everything around me was a blur. People running to the river to fetch water, others were starring in horror, Naomi was screaming. I just watched as the dancing fire swallowed my mother and then lept into the trees, swinging itself from one branch to another and then to the next hut. I was being shaken violently, my name echoed hollow in my mind. Thoughts rushed around repeating their nightmares. I burned the village down. I killed my mother. I burned the village down. The Desert Rose is my fault. I burned her village down.

Everything had vanished from that day. I had made myself forget... I didn’t flee my friends during the war…I was the war. My mother was there…I burned the village down…