JSM - Edition Four

P ompeii

The 24th of August 79 AD started the same as any other day… Maria’s eyes flickered open as the first cracks of daylight poured through the glass windows. She could feel the warmth of the day ooze through her body as she laid in bed soaking in the morning. She could hear the villagers outside trying to sell their products to passers-by who were interested. She could hear them say “Come get your terracotta pots, you won’t get anything more finely made!” and “Garlic, pine kernels and safflower all sold here!” Maria loved mornings. She decided to get up and stand by the window. While Maria looked out across the city, she noticed something…. Pompeii’s greatest landmark, Mt Vesuvius, had a small wisp of smoke rising out of its top. In all the years that Maria had stared out her window and gazed in awe at the city’s protector, she had never seen smoke like this before. Suddenly she felt a small tremor that wasn’t much, but the surprise knocked her off her feet. She giggled quietly to herself as she noticed her finely made white toga had a large dust patch on her bottom where she had fallen. Her father would not be happy about this. As she held onto the window sill and pulled herself back up, she was shocked to see the small wisp of smoke turn into a large mushroom shaped cloud. Maria was now very nervous. Maria worked her way through the narrow streets of Pompeii until she reached her father’s shop. Her father was a merchant – in fact Italy’s finest. Well, at least Maria thought so. As she walked nobody even noticed Mt Vesuvius. They were getting on with their day, running their stalls and competing for the attention of all the morning shoppers. Maria arrived at her father’s store and saw her father speaking to a customer. She was always told never to interrupt a sale and after what felt like an eternity, the customer finally left. She quickly rushed to her father’s side and pointed out what she had seen. Her father didn’t take it seriously and said, “Just a bushfire darling – it has been very hot.” Maria knew that this was not the case. Before Maria could leave the store, a hot wind shot through the street and a few small sparks began to fall. The villagers started to notice. Conversations stopped and everyone turned to see that Mt Vesuvius was now a boiling ball of fire. Maria had to escape. All of a sudden buildings started to go up in flames and day turned dark as night. Buildings were crumbling everywhere. All Maria and the people around her could do, was run. The heat and smoke triggered a lightning storm, and from the volcano, it looked like giant white arms of lightening were throwing pumice boulders the size of chariots. The city’s protector was now a monster. Maria just kept running. The only place she could think of going was towards the water. She reached the Bay of Naples and to her dismay all the boats were either damaged or already taken – except one. The last boat was being frantically boarded. She could hear babies, crying mothers, yells from terrified townsfolk. Maria could see a family, a mother and a baby she guessed would have only been around 6 months old. The mother caught Maria’s eye and beckoned her over. She sprinted over, dodging the ashes and pumice and arrived at the boat within seconds, scrambling in to the already over filled craft. The mother grabbed Maria and yelled, “Take care of my baby!” and then jumped out of the boat. She reached back, gave the baby a kiss and pushed the boat away with a shove as big as her tired body could muster. As Maria held the baby in her hands, all she could do was wrap the baby in her ash covered toga and pray. She looked up and watched as the top of Mt Vesuvius explode, throwing fire into the darkness. As the boat sailed away, she watched her hometown burn. She thought about her father and mother and the torture of so many people.

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JSM Edition Four