Smoke. Grey. Cruel. The grey bluish smoke drifted over the room. The source was the small white stick. The stick that had killed so many before them. The red end burst into to colour. The heat was unrecognisable. The smoke engulfed the small girl sitting on the floor. It swallowed the Barbie house up. The girl tried not to breathe. But the smoke continued to pool around her. She couldn't hold it any longer. The smoke ran up the nose of the small brunette. Into heaving lungs. The smoke attached onto the lung cells. Eating them up. Burning away the oxygen. The girl sighed and held her breath again as from the corner of her eye she saw the bright light of the flame. It burnt the white stick of death quickly and new cruel grey smoke swept into the room. The girl stood up and ran from the room. She ran into the open air and breathed in the cool salty air. Her saviour.
Smoke. Grey. Cruel. The smoke sifted over the horizon. The source was the house. The house had held so many memories. From the sky it looked like a bright lantern on the ground. The heat was overpowering. The smoke engulfed the atmosphere and neighbourhood. It swallowed up the houses next door. The fire fighters strapping on the breathing equipment. The blonde tried not to breathe. She swept away a tear from her cheek. She held her hand to her mouth to stop the smoke getting in. The heat burned her skin. She slid further into the corner and held her legs with her free arm. She sighed a sigh of relief when a bright light flashed into the room. She felt strong arms encircle her and lift her up. She was carried into the open air. He was her saviour.
The smoke still clouded the starry sky. The owners of the house stood outside watching there house burn. A small woman sidled up to the couple. She opened her mouth and the smoke rose out of it like a chimney. She plugged it with the cigarette and inhaled. She opened her mouth again and blew it all away. She turned to the couple.
"Coop I'm sorry." The woman sighed patting her hand on her friends shoulder.
The woman nodded slightly. Summer nodded her head and walked over to the girl. Her daughter. Her only child. She inhaled the smoke again and bent down. She reluctantly let it out. The girl held her breath. She hated that smell. Summer pulled her closer. The girl gagged inwardly. The smoky smell never left her but when she was with her mother it was worse. It followed like the plague. Killing every fresh oxygen atom in the air. The girl felt her grip slacken as she realised her mother was lighting up again.
"Mrs Cohen I don't know how to break it to you." The man in front of her sighed deeply. His eyes resting on Summers shaking hand. "Mrs Cohen your daughter has cancer." The man whispered. Summer looked up.
"Doctor shes only 10." Summer said softly. Her insides were screaming. The doctor nodded.
"I know Mrs Cohen I know." The man said quietly.
"What type?" Summer asked after a long pause.
The doctor looked up. "Do you smoke?"
Cruel grey mist hung around that morning. The family dressed in black stood on the top of the hill. The green grass was dead. The cold stone glinted in the morning sun. The clouds moulded into a fluffy black mess. The trees swayed in the breeze. The body was lowered into the ground. It swallowed her up. The gathered crowd separated as the rain dripped down on the ground. The soft thud of it on the newly covered ground. 2 people stood alone. Separated by a mere foot of nothingness but separated by a lifetime. The woman stood quietly. Her mind blank. Her hands shaking. The man stood quietly. His mind full of wonderings and what ifs? His hands limp by his side. They stood for a long time looking at nothing. As the rain eased and the dark encircled them. The woman reached into her purse. She produced a slim box. The box opened and a long stick raised to her perfectly glossed lips. The man saw the flame erupt in the darkness from no where.
Smoke. Grey. Cruel. Glided over to the man. He turned and looked at the woman in front of him. A single look of disgust etched across his features. He shook his head and turned around. He walked down the hill. Out of the smoke. Out of her life. The darkness grew and the only light shed upon the hill was a small red dot. It finally finished. Only to be replaced with another one.
Grey hair floated up the hill. The old frail woman climbed up the slimy grass. The sun had just began to shine and the dew still tinged the grave. The woman lent up against the cool marble of her estranged husband. Her eyes lingering on the carved words not letting them set in. She gazed down at the grave of her daughter. Her young daughter who was ripped from life so early. Summer looked at the sky. It was dark. Night had set in quickly. As if she had not noticed the daylight. She looked at her withered hands. Her lonely hands. She felt her wrinkled face and her wiry hair. She could feel the oldness scrape into her heart. She blinked away the tear that came to her glossy eye. Sure she would give up her life just so her daughter could stand where she was rooted to the spot. Fate played a tricky game. In her eyes evil. In others good. Her old hands reached into her purse. A slick box slipped through the fingers. Her hands shook as the flame erupted from the smooth container in her other hand. She raised the small white stick to her mouth. The red light burned through the darkness. You couldn't see the smoke. However cold and cruel it was. It was invisible to the eye. But she could feel it. Wrap around her small cold fingers. Lying on her hair and clothes. Covering her skin. She blew out the smoke from her lungs harshly.
"Sorry." She mumbled raising it to her mouth again. It was her saviour. Only she could see it.