Short Story: Life and History

Their house was going to burn tonight.

It was only because of a coincidence that a neighbour of their friend’s niece overheard the plan while cleaning as a janitor. The invaders weren’t satisfied with taking over their town, they were going to wipe out their history too. A few hours wasn’t enough to save all their relics, only their lives.

But there were things more important than their lives. Her family had been archivist for generations. Keeping history alive was in her blood. While the others ran, she turned back and grabbed all the treasures she could carry. She hid them everyone she could. The hidden underground cellar, the ancient stone walls around the grounds sturdy enough to last until the end of time. As long as there was a space, it was good enough for her. Not everything would survive, but she would stay and burn with her home if that would let her save one more relic.

“What are you doing?” Hands tightened around her arms and threw her over a broad shoulder. She kicked and writhed, but her strength was not match for her father’s.

“Let me go. We can’t let them destroy our history,” she said, hoping words would work where brute force failed.

“They can destroy the physical reminders of our past, but as long as we live, so will our stories. Rather than stay and die, live and remember.”

She watched the house shrink as they ran, watched as the light of the sun gave way to a blaze that devoured the stars.

Her father never looked back once.

Tears streaming down her face, she made a vow. This wasn’t goodbye. She would return and restore her home to its rightful state. However long it took.

~End~

Genre: general

September post count: 4/12

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