When I finally finished improvising the roof repair, the sky seemed to have given us a break. The rain had stopped, but the air remained dense and humid, as if the storm was just waiting for the right moment to break again.
I went downstairs, thinking it would be best to head home before it all started again. But as soon as I reached the ground floor, I saw that my plans to leave weren't as simple as I had hoped.
Lívia was there, looking at me with that warm, caring gaze she always had, as if there was always something more behind it—a constant attention she gave to everyone. She crossed her arms and gave me a look that said I should already know what she was going to ask.
"I think it would be better if you stayed tonight, Atlas," she said, her tone sounding more like an order than a request.
"With the sky like this, you can bet the storm is going to come back stronger, and no amount of patching will keep the roof safe for long."
I looked around, trying to find an excuse to refuse. It wasn't that I minded the place—in fact, the Aurora Orphanage had always been a refuge for me—but something felt uncomfortable about the idea of staying there for the night. After all, the only other man who helped manage the place had been absent that week, leaving it with only the women and children, all of whom were very beautiful.
I was the only one left to keep company, and, to be honest, I didn't feel entirely comfortable with the idea of staying, being a man and all, and well, the flesh is weak.
But before I could respond, I felt a light tug on my hand. Little Lúcia, with her shining eyes and mischievous smile, was holding my hand.
"Please, Atlas! Just stay tonight. It'll be so much fun! And you can tell me that story you promised last time," she said, her voice soft but full of expectation.
Her request came with the typical insistence of children, that pure hope that makes you give in without even realizing it.
Sister Maria, who was a bit farther behind, gave me a smile that was almost imperceptible. She was usually the most serious of all, but it seemed like she approved of the idea of me staying the night.
"The truth is, with you here, everyone feels a little more at ease. It's not just about the roof or the storm… It's good for the children to have someone around they feel safe with," she said.
"How can I refuse a request from such beautiful women and sweet children?" I thought, keeping those thoughts to myself.
Soon Sofia and Larissa approached as well, each adding their own comment, as if it was a planned conspiracy to make me change my mind. Sofia, always a little more playful, hugged me, pressing her chest against my arm, and with a wink said:
"You know, Atlas, we can't afford to lose our repair master. And if you need help, who's going to keep the roof standing during the night?"
I felt the weight... I mean, the pressure of so many eyes on me. All the conveniences that made it seem like I would have to accept, as if that were the only logical option. I sighed, glancing at Lúcia once more, who continued to stare at me with those dramatic eyes, waiting for my response with the expression of someone who knew she had already won. There was no way I could say no to her, not without looking completely heartless.
"Alright, alright… I'll stay," I said, raising my hands in surrender.
"But just tonight," I added at the end.
After I finished rebuilding the roof and the children convinced me to stay with the help of Lívia, Maria, Sofia, and Larissa, when I agreed, it was pure joy; it almost felt like I had promised an adventure, and maybe, in a way, that's what it was.
Sister Maria then decided to make hot chocolate for everyone. She went to the kitchen with Ana, the oldest of the children, who was always keeping an eye on everything and volunteered to help. I took the moment to relax a little, watching the joy spread across the children in the room. Carolina, with her ever-present smile, was already chatting with the other kids, while Renato, a little more isolated, kept to himself but was still watching everything around him, as always. And Felipe, the youngest, seemed full of energy, asking questions about how the roof was fixed, as if trying to uncover some great mystery.
The time with them was lighter than I expected.
Seeing the joy on their faces and hearing their laughter was like being in another world. And when Sister Maria and Ana returned with the hot chocolate cups, the night seemed perfect. A little warmth and sweetness after the rain and all the fatigue of the day was just what we all needed. The children began to calm down, and one by one, they started to feel the weight of sleep. Between one story and another, with the help of Maria, Sofia, and Larissa, each one snuggled up in their corners to sleep.
It was then that Lívia came over to me, indicating that I too should rest. Maybe she saw the exhaustion on my face, but despite the calm night and the peace that seemed to be taking over the place, something inside me was restless. I responded that I still wanted to check the roof, to make sure the repair was secure. The orphanage's structure was old, and if the rain came back hard, we couldn't risk new damage.
She insisted, but when she saw I wouldn't give in, she just sighed and shrugged.
"Alright, Atlas. Just... don't forget to take care of yourself too," she said before joining the others to help put the kids to sleep.
I stayed there, trying to focus on the subtle noises of the night, preparing to go up to the roof.
But before I could take the first step, a thunderclap tore through the sky outside, making the windows vibrate.
"BOOOOOM"
The sound took me by surprise, and for a moment, I felt a chill run through my body. I looked around; the silence felt thick, but it didn't last long. Seconds later, I heard a scream. It was Larissa, and her voice was filled with panic.
"Fire! There's a fire!"
I ran down the hallway, and when I got near the kitchen, smoke was already spreading. It was thick and suffocating, and the heat was intense, even from a distance. The flames were consuming the kitchen, advancing too fast.
"GET THE KIDS OUT OF HERE!" I shouted.
I knew there wouldn't be much time to think. The priority was to get the children out, and with everyone's help, we did everything we could to evacuate each of them.
In the midst of the chaos, when we were almost outside the orphanage, I heard a trembling voice from one of the children.
"Sniff... sniff... Tobi, Tobi is not... sniff..."
She was sobbing, saying that Tobi, the orphanage dog, was still inside.
Before we could react, I saw the small figure of a child running back toward the flames. She wanted to save the dog, but the fire had already consumed more than just the kitchen.
"WAIT, IT'S TOO DANGEROUS IN THERE!!" I yelled, hoping her steps would slow, but she was too fast, and I was a sedentary person.
In desperation, I ran after her, and when I caught up, I found her lying on the ground, unconscious, surrounded by smoke.
I picked her up, carrying her outside. She was unconscious, but breathing. But when I turned to leave, I felt a weight in my chest.
"I have to save Tobi," I whispered.
I knew I couldn't just leave him there, not without at least trying.
"RENATO WHERE ARE YOU, THIS ISN'T A GAME, WHERE ARE YOU?!!"
As I prepared to go back and get Tobi, I heard Sister Maria's scream: Renato wasn't with the group.
I looked back and saw her beautiful face, filled with desperation. There was no other choice. I ran back inside the building, crossing the smoke-filled hallway, trying to protect him from the heat as best I could.
"Khrr... koff!"
"Khrr... koff!"
My vision was getting blurry, but I finally found him. Renato was there, near the kitchen, holding little Tobi in his arms, hugging the dog tightly. I grabbed a tarp from somewhere and covered them, creating a barrier to cross the hallway to the exit.
"Khrr... koff!"
With each step, the heat from the flames seemed more intense, as if the fire was trying to stop me from carrying them. The tarp was already starting to catch fire, but with Renato and the dog in my arms, I kept going.
When I was almost at the exit, I felt a presence beside me. I glanced quickly and saw a figure next to me, like a shadow. It was Maria. She was helping me carry Renato, speeding up our pace.
But in the midst of the chaos, I felt a force pulling me back.
"CRECK"
Like an inevitable fate, the structure gave way around me, and all I could do was push Maria forward, along with Renato and Tobi.
She didn't realize it at first, but when she did, it was too late.
The pain of the burns is a torment that drags me to a place where time seems to stretch and shrink at the same time, as if every second were a year and, at the same time, meant nothing.
"Khrr... koff!"
Right in the moment when the heat invaded my skin, there was a fraction of a second when my brain couldn't process the pain. Like a shock, a moment of indifference. But then it broke.
"AaAaargh!"
It was like a silent scream rising within me, and then, the pain took over every fiber of my being.
"AAaaaaaaaaaAaaAArgh!"
I had heard that burns were unbearable, but until I felt it on my skin, I didn't know what it really meant. When the heat touched my body, it felt like my skin was melting, wilting, and hardening at the same time, as if I were a piece of wax melting under the flame.
"AaaAaaaaaArgh!"
The pain exploded, a hot wave that invaded me from the inside out, and there was nothing I could do to dissipate it. I tried to scream, but the pain took my voice before I could release it. What was left was the muffled sound of my breath, heavy, interrupted, a desperate attempt to control what couldn't be controlled.
"AaAaAargh!"
My skin, which had always been soft, was now destroyed. The outer layers seemed to dry instantly, shriveling and wrinkling as if my own flesh was trying to protect itself from itself. Red, brown, and black overtook my body, as if pain had color and texture. Something that a human shouldn't feel, and yet, there I was, immersed in it, burning inside and out. My cells were dying, and I couldn't stop it.
"Aaargh!"
The unmistakable smell started to invade my nostrils — burnt flesh, metallic, almost rotten. A smell that would be etched in my memory, like a mark that couldn't be erased. And that... that only made the pain sharper.
"AAAaaargh!"
My hands, or what was left of them, tried to pull away from the flames, but the heat wouldn't let me. The pain reached my bones. What was once skin was now in flames, and blisters formed, growing with the promise of more suffering. They formed around me, fragile, delicate, filled with a transparent liquid that seemed, in my blurry mind, to be the only thing capable of protecting what was still left of me. But those blisters didn't last. When they finally burst, the raw flesh appeared, red, shiny, as if I were being exposed to the world for the first time. The pain was now in raw flesh, unfiltered. And every breath, every touch of air that dared to touch my skin was a torment.
"AaarAaaaaAaaAAAAaagh!" I was losing my voice from screaming so much.
Even when the flames went out, the pain remained. It was a burn that didn't go away. No matter what happened, it stayed, constant, with an unrelenting presence, a pain that didn't cease, that didn't ease. With every second that passed, it felt like the universe itself was forcing me to remember what I had lived through. What I was still living through.
"Aaargh!"
My body was becoming a battlefield, and my mind, which had been a fortress, was now at the mercy of the pain, wavering between what was left of my sanity and a despair that I didn't know where to find relief. The pain wasn't limited to my body. It was here, in my mind, slowly eating me away. I didn't know if I was still capable of fighting, if I could take more. The feeling of death seemed closer, more real. My body refused to give in, but my mind, oh, it was tired. Tired of screaming, tired of feeling.
"Argh!"
"Is this the end?" I thought.