I don't know how I manage to continually relive the same, horrible month of October, over and over again. October is my favorite month, as well as the month I was born in. However, October is also the most horrible month to me. October is almost always overcast and cold, filled with windy storms and always ends with a tragedy.
I remember what happened October 25th of last year. I was sitting in my cubicle at work and I was going to go home early because I didn't feel well. I had been developing a migraine all day and felt the effects at work. I could no longer see straight, I was extremely nauseated and I felt very weak. I had lunch at my desk but I decided to walk home after eating. It was just two blocks from my office, along a busy street.
Before I know it all the lights are out except for the blinking red of my computer screen. Happily, the sun must have gone down, the streets are empty and I guess the power failed. This is some sort of strange conspiracy, I thought, but I have no idea what's going on. I walk down the street and try to enjoy the way the moon is shining and the cobwebs are twinkling.
The moon is as big as a full moon and it makes the cobwebs look really pretty. I sadly notice my headache is still pounding, so I decide its best to go home, get in bed and wake up in a few hours. Hopefully, I'll be able to feel better then.
I head home, and when I arrive at my house I find something terribly wrong. The house was on fire and my family was dead. I remember running into the burning house, trying to find my husband and children inside.
I tried to save them, but I couldn't. By the time I got inside the house, I couldn't see anything. I felt around and found a fire extinguisher and I remembered seeing a fire blanket on the wall.
I pulled them down off the wall, but I couldn't find the door. I walked out of the blazing house and collapsed on the sidewalk. It was so dark and there was so much smoke. I couldn't see anything, nor could I hear anything but the sound of my own heart beating a thousand miles per minute.
I woke up shortly after this terrible ordeal. I'm alive! I thought to myself. I'm alive!! I was covered in blood, my clothes were all ruined and I was in pain. I couldn't see anything and I couldn't hear anything. I began feeling around with my hands, feeling my body and trying to find different injuries.
I couldn't feel my legs and when I put my hand around my neck, I couldn't feel it. I guessed that my neck was most likely broken and I might have suffered some brain damage. I sat on the porch step of the burning house, crying, unable to think and unable to move.
For some reason, the house seemed to be slanted. I couldn't remember what happened to it. I sat there for a half an hour or so, finally remembering that I was supposed to be going to the store to pick up my kids.
I could hear something at this point and it was the repetitive squealing noise of sirens. I looked up to see all of my neighbors surrounding me. They had come outside to watch the house I lived in burn to the ground. They were all here as a united and obnoxious pact, as if they were a family.
Everyone was pointing at me, yelling at me and laughing at me. I was too weak to notice all the attention and it was too dark to see anything. I tried to get up but I couldn't move. 'Come on Lori, get up', everyone said, 'Get up!' Eventually for some reason, I moved. I tried to stand up and this massive pain seared through my whole body.
Annoyingly, I couldn't see anything and couldn't hear anything until I stood up. I sat back down, trying to figure out what happened. I was starting to feel less afraid but when I tried to stand up again, I fell back down. My body was too broken now and it didn't respond to my commands. 'You'll never get up again Lori, so get up now,' someone shouted from across the street.
I finally decided that I would just stay where I was. One last time, I tried to stand up and I fell back down. Everyone was telling me yet again that I would never get up. I was too weak to move. I was too weak to care.
My head suddenly began to fill with images and sounds. I started to see and hear things that weren't there and sounds that weren't there. I got confused and lost. All I could see was fire and all I could hear were squeals. I started hallucinating and I felt like I was being pulled.
The neighborhood was under attack, the fire was being extinguished. Neighbors were everywhere, disposing of ruined furniture and burning manuscripts. My children were slowly emerging from their hiding places, confused and scared. They were being taken away and read their final rites.
These gentlemen would give a long, deep breathing and would prepare the young to travel. A man would walk up to the child, grab them by the shoulders and put their face right up to his face. Wake up,' he would tell the child. It's time to leave, time to go to heaven. But first you must wake up. The man would gently rub the child on their wrists, gently pull them up and pat them on the back, trying to give them the strength to wake up.
The children began to wake up, return to life and begin running away to safety. I began to die, slowly dying. The children were told that they had to wake up, but the could only wake up if they had the strength. They were being reassured that they had the strength to wake up and live. I began feeling unsure about my future and worried about my children.
I felt guilt for abandoning them and for not being a better mother. I tried to cry for their safety, but I was too weak. I couldn't even tell them that I loved them, that I was sorry and that I'd miss them. I tried to tell them everything, to tell them everything they'd ever need to know and more, but I couldn't speak. I couldn't even see them or the men helping them.
