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Miranda was five when her parents were killed in a fire that consumed their entire house.
† + † + †
Miranda was jolted awake by her mother shaking her. She immediately started coughing. There was so much smoke. Her mother started crying, caressing her cheek. "Mein Liebling.1 You're alive. You're alive." She sobbed, cradling Miranda's head to her chest. Miranda could feel the unnatural heat radiating from her mother's skin. She hiccuped but before she could start crying, her mother held her at arms length, looking very stern. "Sie können nicht weinen. Egal, was Sie können nicht weinen.2"
Miranda nodded and bit her lip as hard as she could, whimpering slightly. Still, she listened to her mother and didn't shed a tear. Her mother caressed her cheek, brushing some hair aside from her face. She smiled a sweet, sad smile that Miranda couldn't understand at the time. She picked up Miranda and cradled her head to her chest so she wouldn't breathe in too much smoke. She crawled across the floor, dragging a leg. Miranda bit her lip harder and whimpered again when she saw her mother's burnt leg. Still, she refused to shed a tear. Her mother grabbed the door and cried out, the hot handle burning her hand. She opened the door and crawled through the flaming path towards the stairs. She tried to stand when she got to the stairs, knowing she wouldn't make it down them before the fire caught up to them if she tried to crawl. Unfortunately, the burns on her leg were too extensive and she fell down the stairs in her attempt to stand. Out of instinct, she clutched Miranda tighter to her bossom. That maternal instinct was the only reason Miranda survived; otherwise, she would've broken her neck. She cracked her head at the bottom of the stairs and the wound was bleeding profusely. She lifted a hand up to brush the tears slipping out of her daughter's eyes, her smile so kind and loving, it was almost heartbreakingly cruel to see. "Live. Finden Sie Ihren Vater und zu leben, mein Liebling.3"
Her hand dropped to the floor and when Miranda picked it up, it was limp in her hand. She began to cry, sobbing out her five year old heart. Her father came running into the room; calling out to her and her mother. "Clara! Mein Herz und Seele, wo bist du? Mira, meine geliebte Tochter!4" He spotted the two of them and he let out such a heart-wrenching cry that Miranda, startled, dropped her mother's hand. She hiccuped and tried to hold back her tears again but she couldn't do it. Her father knelt beside them and picked up his wife Clara, cradling her body to him. He sobbed, crying openly for the first and last time in his life. Miranda blinked at him and her own tears dried. The fire cackled around them and she resigned herself to die with the rest of her family. Her father cried for several minutes, cradling his broken wife to him but finally his tears were spent. The fire had nearly reached them. He gently lay Clara down and picked up Miranda. Miranda, startled by this, clung to his shirt. He moved away and she let out a sound of protest, beginning to cry again and holding out her arms to her mother's body. She didn't want to leave her alone. He pressed her face into his shirt and she felt something wet against her face.
"Mira. Mira, listen to me. Du wirst leben. Du wirst leben und glücklich sein.5 Do you understand?" He told her, rushing towards the front door. Miranda nodded, holding in her tears as best as she could. The front door had been blocked by the spreading fire however. He gasped in dispair but his expression became determined. He held her with one arm and with the other, he grabbed a chair and hurtled it at the window. It crashed through it with a loud explosion. He grabbed another chair and through it through the window again, knocking out most of the rest of the glass. Still cradling his daughter carefully, he used his arms to make sure that most of the glass around the edges was shoved outside. He incurred deep gashes on his forearm and he winced at them. Blood dripped from his arm as he set Miranda on the edge of the window. "Live happy and free, Mira. Promise me that."
"Ich verspreche, Papa.6"
He smiled at her and placed a loving kiss on her forehead. Miranda didn't realize yet that the window wasn't big enough for him to get through. "I love you, Miranda. Ich liebe dich.7 Now live for both of us." Saying these words with tears rolling down his cheeks, her father pushed her outside. Miranda toppled backwards, her small hands reaching for her father.
"Papa! Papa, papa!" She sobbed. She landed in the snow pile below, her landing softened by it. Sobbing, she lifted bloody hands towards the window but her hands shook as she stared at them. Blood. Her mother's blood. She looked down and saw a piece of glass in the snow. She picked it up and stared at her reflection. There was trace amounts of blood smeared on her face. Tears spilling down her cheeks and leaking tell-tale streaks down her face, she began to sob. "Papa! Mama! Papa! Papa!"
There was a terrible creaking and groaning and Miranda looked up. She watched as her house made a horrible crunching sound and began to collapse in on itself, first one part of the roof, then her room disappeared completely. A few hours later, her eyes had spent all their tears and she stared at the skeleton of her house in shock. By the time they put out the fire, her former home was unrecognizable. Miranda, who had been dragged away from the house and cleaned up, walked up to the house. She passed the officials silently and didn't stop until she came to two figures covered with white blankets. She knelt beside them, sat there in the middle of the ruin and with trembling fingers, reached out and picked up the hand of one of them. It was burnt black and tears welled up in her eyes. For now, she was going to disobey her mother. Sitting in the ruins of her house, holding the burnt hand of one of her parents, she didn't hold back and cried her heart out. Everyone turned away, allowing her her grief.
...two weeks later, the rumors started. Her house had been burned down on purpose. Someone had tried to kill her family. Who knows who said it first but it was said. Miranda Lotto, the child who had been admired for bearing with losing everything, was curse. She had caused her family's horrific murders. The rumors spread like wildfire.† + † + †
1-- My darling.
2-- You cannot cry. No matter what you cannot cry.
3-- Find your father and live, my darling.
4-- Clara! My heart and soul, where are you? Mira, my precious daughter!
5-- You are going to live. You are going to live and be happy.
6-- I promise, Papa.
7-- I love you.
Miranda was jolted awake by her mother shaking her. She immediately started coughing. There was so much smoke. Her mother started crying, caressing her cheek. "Mein Liebling.1 You're alive. You're alive." She sobbed, cradling Miranda's head to her chest. Miranda could feel the unnatural heat radiating from her mother's skin. She hiccuped but before she could start crying, her mother held her at arms length, looking very stern. "Sie können nicht weinen. Egal, was Sie können nicht weinen.2"
Miranda nodded and bit her lip as hard as she could, whimpering slightly. Still, she listened to her mother and didn't shed a tear. Her mother caressed her cheek, brushing some hair aside from her face. She smiled a sweet, sad smile that Miranda couldn't understand at the time. She picked up Miranda and cradled her head to her chest so she wouldn't breathe in too much smoke. She crawled across the floor, dragging a leg. Miranda bit her lip harder and whimpered again when she saw her mother's burnt leg. Still, she refused to shed a tear. Her mother grabbed the door and cried out, the hot handle burning her hand. She opened the door and crawled through the flaming path towards the stairs. She tried to stand when she got to the stairs, knowing she wouldn't make it down them before the fire caught up to them if she tried to crawl. Unfortunately, the burns on her leg were too extensive and she fell down the stairs in her attempt to stand. Out of instinct, she clutched Miranda tighter to her bossom. That maternal instinct was the only reason Miranda survived; otherwise, she would've broken her neck. She cracked her head at the bottom of the stairs and the wound was bleeding profusely. She lifted a hand up to brush the tears slipping out of her daughter's eyes, her smile so kind and loving, it was almost heartbreakingly cruel to see. "Live. Finden Sie Ihren Vater und zu leben, mein Liebling.3"
Her hand dropped to the floor and when Miranda picked it up, it was limp in her hand. She began to cry, sobbing out her five year old heart. Her father came running into the room; calling out to her and her mother. "Clara! Mein Herz und Seele, wo bist du? Mira, meine geliebte Tochter!4" He spotted the two of them and he let out such a heart-wrenching cry that Miranda, startled, dropped her mother's hand. She hiccuped and tried to hold back her tears again but she couldn't do it. Her father knelt beside them and picked up his wife Clara, cradling her body to him. He sobbed, crying openly for the first and last time in his life. Miranda blinked at him and her own tears dried. The fire cackled around them and she resigned herself to die with the rest of her family. Her father cried for several minutes, cradling his broken wife to him but finally his tears were spent. The fire had nearly reached them. He gently lay Clara down and picked up Miranda. Miranda, startled by this, clung to his shirt. He moved away and she let out a sound of protest, beginning to cry again and holding out her arms to her mother's body. She didn't want to leave her alone. He pressed her face into his shirt and she felt something wet against her face.
"Mira. Mira, listen to me. Du wirst leben. Du wirst leben und glücklich sein.5 Do you understand?" He told her, rushing towards the front door. Miranda nodded, holding in her tears as best as she could. The front door had been blocked by the spreading fire however. He gasped in dispair but his expression became determined. He held her with one arm and with the other, he grabbed a chair and hurtled it at the window. It crashed through it with a loud explosion. He grabbed another chair and through it through the window again, knocking out most of the rest of the glass. Still cradling his daughter carefully, he used his arms to make sure that most of the glass around the edges was shoved outside. He incurred deep gashes on his forearm and he winced at them. Blood dripped from his arm as he set Miranda on the edge of the window. "Live happy and free, Mira. Promise me that."
"Ich verspreche, Papa.6"
He smiled at her and placed a loving kiss on her forehead. Miranda didn't realize yet that the window wasn't big enough for him to get through. "I love you, Miranda. Ich liebe dich.7 Now live for both of us." Saying these words with tears rolling down his cheeks, her father pushed her outside. Miranda toppled backwards, her small hands reaching for her father.
"Papa! Papa, papa!" She sobbed. She landed in the snow pile below, her landing softened by it. Sobbing, she lifted bloody hands towards the window but her hands shook as she stared at them. Blood. Her mother's blood. She looked down and saw a piece of glass in the snow. She picked it up and stared at her reflection. There was trace amounts of blood smeared on her face. Tears spilling down her cheeks and leaking tell-tale streaks down her face, she began to sob. "Papa! Mama! Papa! Papa!"
There was a terrible creaking and groaning and Miranda looked up. She watched as her house made a horrible crunching sound and began to collapse in on itself, first one part of the roof, then her room disappeared completely. A few hours later, her eyes had spent all their tears and she stared at the skeleton of her house in shock. By the time they put out the fire, her former home was unrecognizable. Miranda, who had been dragged away from the house and cleaned up, walked up to the house. She passed the officials silently and didn't stop until she came to two figures covered with white blankets. She knelt beside them, sat there in the middle of the ruin and with trembling fingers, reached out and picked up the hand of one of them. It was burnt black and tears welled up in her eyes. For now, she was going to disobey her mother. Sitting in the ruins of her house, holding the burnt hand of one of her parents, she didn't hold back and cried her heart out. Everyone turned away, allowing her her grief.
...two weeks later, the rumors started. Her house had been burned down on purpose. Someone had tried to kill her family. Who knows who said it first but it was said. Miranda Lotto, the child who had been admired for bearing with losing everything, was curse. She had caused her family's horrific murders. The rumors spread like wildfire.
1-- My darling.
2-- You cannot cry. No matter what you cannot cry.
3-- Find your father and live, my darling.
4-- Clara! My heart and soul, where are you? Mira, my precious daughter!
5-- You are going to live. You are going to live and be happy.
6-- I promise, Papa.
7-- I love you.
