The Unknown Heiress

Nyxamma Persephone Smith - Perspective - 2009

“Nyxamma, you need to get up now.” The voice nudged my dream ridden mind. “You need to wake up.” An urgency to the tone forced my eyes open. I slowly rubbed away the sleep as smoke filtered in under my doorway.

“Mommy!” I yelled unaware of what was happening. Panic rose in my chest, a pressure filled with questions that tore through my young mind.

My little feet sprang towards the walnut colored door as more and more smoke crept in around me. I was determined, mommy needs us. Without another thought I lifted my hand causing a sharp yelp to leave my lips as I touched the metal knob which burned my tiny fingers.

I had to get to mommy.

Wrapping the bottom of my nightgown around my hand I quickly spun the handle and threw open the door only to be met with red and orange flames crawling up the walls engulfing the hall with a heat that wafted over my body.

The previously pristine walls were now a gradient scale of browns and dark ash. The acrid and unpleasant scent of charred drywall and plastics bombarded my nostrils.

“Mommy!” I screamed into the raging inferno.

The house groaned and creaked as the fire tore through it. As if someone poured water into hot oil loud sizzles and popping sounds rang out as a refrain to the chorus of groans.

I stepped into the hallway; flames miraculously swayed away from my body as I continued towards my mother’s door. The smoke swirled around my legs, up and around my abdomen, then down my arms but never near my face. I was extremely thankful for this as the crippling emotions were already weighing down my lungs making it difficult to breath.

“Mom, where are you?”

I fought the urge to cry. It felt like a cocktail of fear, anger, sadness, and confusion had been injected into my blood. Fear from the imminent danger surrounding me. Anger at mommy for not responding. Sadness and confusion brought on by increasingly disturbing what ifs rushing through my brain. Only, I know they aren't what ifs.

It continued to get warmer the further down the hall I went. Before I could reach her door, I was yanked back by rough hands and cradled into the chest of a man in a dark suit. His silver-grey eyes swirling with crimson, gazed into mine as he searched them with an almost frantic disposition.

Tilting my head I couldn't help the confused look that came over my face. "Who are you?" I whispered.

His hand gently cupped my cheek, caressing his calloused thumb soothingly over my skin as we continued to stare at each other for what felt like hours. He felt comfortable, almost calming me with his presence. His scent, a mix of brown sugar and vanilla rolled into a cigar enveloped me in familiarity.

“Go to sleep.” The words entered my mind in a low growl. As soon as I could process what the voice said my eyes fluttered shut.

I awoke a bit later incredibly confused as someone flashed a light in my eye. Immediately I flinched backwards from the bright intrusion. My body sending shivers of uncertainty down my spine.

I could feel the blades of grass bending beneath my body. the emotional cocktail was reinjected into my veins. This time with an extra helping of fear and confusion. What should be crisp night air had been dominated by the thick veil of smoke and chaos.

“She’s awake.” A voice yelled to someone causing me to focus back on the stranger with the flashlight.

“Hey kiddo, what is your name?”

“N-Nyxamma?” I stuttered in an unsure tone.

“Okay Nyxamma, are you in pain?”

I looked down at myself, lifting my hand to my face then dropping it when I noticed there were no burn marks. I shook my head and drew my eyebrows together in confusion.

I stood up, brushing off the grass that clung to their temporary indentations that covered my arms and legs in disorganized patterns. I couldn't help but take in the devastating scenery in front of me. Charred remains of the structure mommy and I lived in sizzled as the firefighters continued to douse them with water.

Overwhelmed with everything going on I whispered, “Where’s Mommy?”

“Nyxamma, can you tell me how you got out of the house?”

“Where’s Mommy?” the words left my mouth through trembling lips. My eyes never leaving the spot our house used to stand.

“Kiddo, can you tell me what happened?” the gentleman in front of me pressed.

The croak of a raven pulled my gaze upwards. 4 large, midnight black birds slowly landed on the powerlines above us. Their heads tilted with interest at the scene playing out below them.

I shook my head as the volley of emotions weighed down on me. Tears slipped free as my arms hugged around my middle trying to reassure myself that this was just a dream.

"Mommy!" I cried out in panic.

It was my birthday when I found out that my mother had died in the fire. Happy birthday to me...

It had felt like weeks had passed by as I was shuffled from one stranger’s custody to the next. I had already been seen by the doctors, firefighters, police officers, and other adults probing me for what little memories remained.

I wasn't sure why I couldn't remember how I got out or ended up on the front lawn in what felt like a deep sleep. I do remember the familiar feeling man but I couldn't tell them anything other than his eye color and what he smelt like.

It had only been 14 hours since I woke up on my front lawn. The grown-ups kept asking me about what happened and how I got out. I couldn’t remember anything other than the image of silver eyes and the scent of brown sugar and vanilla cigars that had now been burned into my memory. I was mentally drained from struggling to pull details from the night.

My body has been on auto-pilot for awhile now. The emotional cocktail had been replaced with a numbing cream. There was only a deep anguish radiating out of my chest where my heart used to be. I sat on a cold metal bench outside of an office as the adults spoke.

“So, she has no memory of what happened?”

“Seems that way, sometimes that happens during traumatic experiences. It’s called Dissociative amnesia.”

“Huh, alright well her file is done. Nyxamma Persephone Smith, Birthdate 10/27/2002, mother was Persephone Rosalynn Smith, Father is unknown, no known family or potential guardians.” The woman said in a monotone voice as though this was a normal day.

In reality, it probably was a normal day for her. For me though? I was numb, my life had completely changed in less than 24 hours. My body moved but my brain went silent. I couldn’t grasp the situation yet. The door swung open and a middle-aged woman in a brown dress sinched at the waist stepped up to me. She held her hand out as she said, “Alright sugar, let’s get you situated with your new foster family.”