Lullaby

Emanuele knew she was dying.

Her body was the first to show signs, and at an alarming rate to say the least: lungs that could no longer draw in air, nostrils burning from the intoxicating amount of smoke, legs increasingly shaky, hands shaky and powerless, eyes blurred and watery, and last but not least, her heart beating ever more weakly and slowly.

She was lying right in front of Joshua's door. At some point between punching the wooden structure and stopping to take a breath, her body simply collapsed.

Emanuele tried to get up. Once, twice, three times. After all, all that was stopping her from saving Joshua was that damned infernal barrier. If it were a man, he would probably slam his shoulder into that door, loosening them from their hinges, and enter the house.

An unusual lethargy, like the forced sleep of an anesthesia or the slow unconsciousness of fainting, takes over his mind.

The sound of sirens, screams, and other panicky sounds become more and more distant.

Memories com