Little Moments Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2015 © Madison Street

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Photo by Lindee Robinson Photography

  Models: Mikeala Galli and Ahmad Kawsan

  Editing by C. Marie

  Formatted by Madison Street

  ISBN-13:978-1512355376

  ISBN-10:1512355372

  This book is dedicated to the firefighters of the New York City Fire Department.

  Your bravery and courage has saved countless lives.

  You are truly heroes.

  Below is a list of songs featured in the Little Moments playlist. Some songs are featured in the novel, while others were all I listened to while writing this story. All songs can be listened to via Spotify.

  -Tough Love by Jessie Ware

  -XO by Beyonce

  -Coming Back for You by Maroon 5

  -Broken Over You by Grace Mitchell

  -Tell Her you Love her by Echosmith

  -Don’t Find Another Love by Tegan and Sarah

  -Champagne Kisses by Jessie Ware

  -Fireproof by One Direction

  -Firestone by Kygo

  -Yours by Ella Henderson

  -Don’t you Worry, Love by Oh, Honey

  -When I Found You by Francesco Yates

  -You and Me by Lifehouse

  -Start Again by Conrad Sewell

  -Gold Dust by Galantis

  -Nothing would be Better by Nick Jonas

  -Feel Again by One Republic

  -All we Need by Odesza

  Roman

  THE SMELL OF SMOKE burns my nostrils. The faint cry of my mother’s screams echoes from behind the walls. Is this a dream? Mom, where are you?

  Moving my sleepy fingers awake, I slowly open my eyes to darkness. The distant moonlight is grasping to shine inside my bedroom. As my eyes open wide, I see a haze of smoke surrounding me. Sitting up in bed, my hand reaches out to feel it. The siren of fire trucks grows louder.

  My lungs begin to burn as smoke fills them. I buckle down and cough, gasping for clean air. Fear creeps along the back of my neck as the hair stands still.

  “Mom!”

  I quickly jump out of bed and immediately feel the heat on my bare feet. Whoa, that’s hot! Remembering what I learned in school, I try to stay low to the ground. Slowly crawling to the window, I try to open it, but the lock is too tight for me to pry.

  The heat from inside is getting hotter and hotter. Beads of sweat start to trickle down my face. I can’t see anything. It’s too dark.

  My panic builds. Banging on the window, I cry, “Somebody help me!” The heat on the window burns slightly, but I ignore the pain.

  I look out the window to see three fire trucks pull up beside the apartment building. Firefighters race to the hydrants to connect the water hose as others rush into the building. Police cars make their way alongside the building as well.

  Sudden screams startle me, jolting me away from the window. Mom?!

  Keeping low, I crawl to my bedroom door and tap the knob to see if it’s hot. Sudden heat tingles my skin, so I turn around to try to find something to protect my hand. Feeling my way along the floor, I pick up what feels like a t-shirt and head back toward the bedroom door.

  The smoke in my room gets thicker and makes it harder to breath. Constantly coughing, I make my way to the door to twist open the knob. Pushing it open, I see flames cover the living room and its walls.

  Pictures of my mom and me, plants, furniture—everything I see is burning. Standing up quickly and shielding myself, I yell out, “Mom! Where are you?”

  “Roman! Oh, thank God you’re all right!”

  Frantically, I look around to see her, but the flames blind my vision. “Mom, I can’t see you.”

  “I’m in the foyer; I’m coming to get you! Stay where you are. Keep low baby, keep low!”

  Bits of the ceiling crash into the living room, engulfing the room in flames. Heat rises, flames grow higher, panic builds inside. I’m scared.

  A heavy pounding crashes into the apartment’s front door. The muffled sounds of deep voices carry from the other side of it. The pounding continues until a firefighter crashes through the door. I can’t help but scream.

  The firefighter grabs hold of me. “Are you okay kid? Where’s your family?” He quickly inspects my arms and legs for any signs of injury or burns.

  I point toward the back of the apartment. “My mom is back there and she’s on her way.”

  He nods his head. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  He says into his radio, “This is Rivera. I have two residents on the sixth floor in need of extraction. I have one with me now.”

  Another voice responds through the radio, “On my way, Rivera.”

  He wraps what looks like a blanket around my body and tells me, “This will prevent you from getting burned.”

  I nod my head. “Thank you.”

  “Roman!”

  Turning around, I see my mother reaching us. She pulls me into her arms. “Oh, thank you, thank you. I’m so happy you’re all right.”

  I see tears spill out of her eyes as I ask, “What took you so long Mom?’

  “I got stuck in the foyer. Some debris from upstairs fell. I’m okay though.”

  The firefighter wraps a blanket around her and asks, “Are you all right ma’am? Anyone else in the apartment?”

  “Yes, I’m okay. No one else lives here.”

  At that moment, another firefighter comes barreling through the front entrance. “We need to get out now before it crumbles!”

  Rivera picks me up. “Hold on kid.” He races off into the stairwell of the building. I look behind me and see my mother being carried by the other firefighter.

  Smoke and flames surround us, and the unbearable smell fills my nose. I use the blanket to cover it, hoping I can breathe easier. Racing down the stairs, the building trembles and I hear debris falling.

  As we pass each floor, cries for help echo throughout the stairwell as I see firefighters attempting to complete their rescues. The building shakes again, and Rivera stops suddenly, grabbing on to the banister.

  “Shit! Hold on to me, kid!”

  As our bodies sway along the banister, I see pieces of the stairwell beneath us crumble and fall into the darkness below. My eyes grow wide, and my breathing stops as fear of falling seeps in.

  Rivera looks behind and yells, “We need to turn around! The stairwell is gone! Go back up to the fourth floor and we’ll jump for it!”

  As we turn around, I can see Mom wrapped safely in the firefighter’s arms. She gives me a warm smile.

  We follow closely behind until we reach the fourth floor. My mother’s rescuer runs to the nearest window, but suddenly debris falls in front of them. I hear her scream and the firefighter curse.

  Rivera holds onto me tight as he radios for a jumping point. As he’s given his orders, he yells back, “We’re jumping off the west hallway! Follow us!”

  He turns to race down another corridor, and as I look back to see my mom in the distance, I yell, “Mom!”

  Rivera assures me, “Don’t worry kid. He’ll get her out.”
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  The building trembles again as we rush to the jumping point. I can hear Rivera’s heavy breathing through the oxygen mask and he squeezes me tighter.

  “Almost there. Hold on!”

  I see light shine from a busted window casing as we get closer and closer. As we approach for the jump, I hold on with all of my might. Rivera leaps out, pulling me closer.

  My eyes shut tight and loud screams from within escape me as we fly through the air until suddenly we are bouncing up and down on a trampoline. As our bodies settle onto the trampoline, I look up at the building. It’s completely covered in flames. Smoke escapes broken windows and firefighters spray water to calm the fires while others are jumping out of the building into safety.

  An explosion blasts from inside the building and it immediately begins to crumble into dust.

  My heart sinks as I jump off the trampoline and rush toward the building, crying out, “Mom!”

  Rivera grabs hold of me. “No! Don’t!”

  I struggle in his arms. “No! My mom is still in there! She needs my help!”

  I continue to struggle as tears trickle down my face and he holds on to me. What feels like forever is probably only a few minutes, and my aching body surrenders in his arms.

  I look back at the crumbled building as my body shudders. “She didn’t make it, did she?”

  “No. I’m sorry son.”

  Roman

  MY MOTHER IS DEAD. I honestly don’t even know what happens; it all goes by so fast. After the building fire is put out, a few calls are made and paramedics take a look at me. As I sit with a blanket wrapped around my body to keep warm, an officer approaches me.

  “What’s your name son? How old are you?”

  Shakily I reply, “Roman Moretti, and I am eleven years old.”

  “Do you have any family who lives in the city? Aunts, uncles, grandparents?”

  I bow my head. “Yes, my uncle lives in the Bronx.”

  I look back at the cop as he questions me. “Do you know his phone number?”

  I give him the number and he orders another officer to dial my uncle. He gives me his attention again. “What about your father? Is he around?”

  I shake my head. “No, he died three years ago of cancer.”

  I hear a loud breath escape him. He kneels down to my level and places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss Roman. I’ll make sure that we get through to your uncle so you can be with family.”

  Tears start to spill as a small sob escapes me. He squeezes my shoulder. “Rivera told me that you almost ran back inside the building. You’re a brave kid you know that? It took a lot of guts to try and save her. We would be honored to have someone like you with us.”

  All I can do is nod. The feeling inside is gone, completely numb. My mother was my shining light, and now all I have is darkness. Darkness and despair.

  I arrive at my uncle’s house later that night—or should I say morning? By the time I get there, the sun is starting to rise. After the officer drops me off, my aunt and uncle hold me for what feels like hours. My aunt’s tears spill down her cheeks and onto my hands as I hug her. My uncle, mourning the loss of his sister, holds me tight and says a light prayer. They want to talk about what happened, but I’m not ready. I just want to be alone for a while, so they put me up in my cousin’s room for the day.

  Now, here I am, looking up at the ceiling. The events of last night continue to replay in my head over and again. My mother’s screams echo in my mind as a shiver tremors throughout my body. I get suddenly cold and snuggle deeper into the covers. Why couldn’t I save her? What went wrong? I should have done something. How come both of my parents are dead? Why me?

  Closing my eyes, I picture the flames bursting before me, heating up my skin. Panic builds inside as I recall those scary moments of not knowing if I’d survive. I can feel my chest constrict with fear, and my breathing becomes heavy. I picture my mother, her face full of bravery, and the realization hits me. My eyes shoot open.

  That was the last time I’ll see her.

  I can’t help but burst into tears. An uncontrollable sob cries out from within my chest as I bury my head into the pillow. My body heaves as I let out the anger, the despair, the longing. A few minutes later, I hear the bedroom door open, and weight sinks into the bed as someone sits next to me. I look up to see my uncle, sitting there in silence as tears continue to spill down my face.

  He looks at me and places his hand on my shoulder.

  He sighs. “Let it out Roman.”

  He bows his head and brings his hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes close and he takes in deep breaths. After several moments of inner struggle, my uncle begins to cry. At that instant, I sit up in bed and reach out to him. His eyes meet mine as we share a moment of understanding, and he pulls me into his arms.

  My throat catches as I ask, “Why did she have to die?”

  My uncle whispers, “I can’t tell you the reason. Some things just happen in life, and we have no control over them. We can’t predict the future, and we can’t change the past.”

  “What’s going to happen now?”

  My uncle gives me a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. “Well, your aunt and I are here for you now. You’ll live with us and, of course, you’ll have to change schools, but I know that we can make it through this. It won’t happen overnight, but as long as we have each other, we can overcome this.”

  I sob, “I don’t want to let her go.”

  “No one ever said you have to let her go. In fact, cherish the memories you had with her. Those are the moments that will always last. Never forget those times.”

  We hold on to each other until sleep and exhaustion take over. As the sun rises and the city starts to wake, I feel my body beg to rest. Weakness spreads to my arms as I can no longer hold on to my uncle. He senses my tiredness and slowly lays me down on the pillow. My crying begins to fade as the tears dry. As I close my eyes, I feel my uncle lay the covers on top of me and whisper, “I’ll always take care of you. I promise.”

  Roman

  LOSING ONE PARENT IS DEVASTATING, but losing both parents is life changing. I remember when my father died. It was different from my mother’s death. We had time. We were prepared. We had the chance to say our goodbyes. I don’t remember too many details, but I do remember seeing my mother cry. We were in the hospital, my parents had just come out of the doctor’s office, and my father was consoling her.

  At first I thought something was wrong with Mom, but it wasn’t until later that night that I found out it was Dad that was sick. Cancer; it was difficult to understand it all, but I got the gist of it. Luckily, the doctors were able to find a treatment for my father to prolong his life.

  But, after two years, the medication wouldn’t take. The doctor visits became more frequent, the constant tests became a routine, and my father’s illness worsened. By that time, there was nothing else that could be done.

  So my mom took time off work, and we spent three weeks traveling and spending as much time with my father as we could. We visited so many interesting places and watching my dad experience it all was truly amazing. After months of noticing a dark cloud over him, I finally saw him smile. I think it was when we went to visit Elvis; that was his favorite spot.

  My father’s death was the first in my life. I was eight years old. After our travels, my mother decided to stay home with him and get a nurse to help out as well. I remember it was right before Valentine’s Day; my mother had picked me up early from school.

  “Mom, why are you picking me up so early?”

  She hugs me and says, “You’re father’s not doing so well Roman and…I think you should talk to him.”

  Her eyes well up as tears threaten to spill, and all I can do is nod.

  The sprint home is silent but frantic. She holds my hand so tight it hurts, but I don’t want to say anything. I’m scared, afraid of seeing my father the way he is, afraid for my mom, and scared for the unknown that
waits at home.

  A few minutes later, we enter the apartment, and the nurse tells my mom that he doesn’t have much time left. A loud gasp escapes her mouth as her hand tightens around mine again. She turns to make her way to the bedroom, but I stand still.

  She turns to me. “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head no.

  She sighs. “Roman, I know…I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me too. Don’t you see? I’m about to break in half, but we have to do this.”

  I look into her eyes. “I don’t want to say goodbye yet. I’m not ready. I can’t lose my dad.” Tears start to trickle down my face. She pulls me to her chest and rubs my back.

  “I know baby, I know. I don’t want to lose him either, but don’t you want to say goodbye? This may be the last time you’ll talk to your father.”

  “But why? Why did this happen?”

  Her throat clenches. “It’s just a part of life. As screwed up as this is, we have to make the best of it. I know you’re hurting, but imagine your father. What do you think he must be feeling right now? He knows that he will never see you graduate and go to college. He won’t see you get married or have kids. No more father son chats, or going to the park, or camping.”

  She forces me to look at her, and I see tears in her eyes. “It is devastating him to leave you. He wants to see you.”

  She gives me a warming smile and wipes my tears away. “Do you understand?”

  Sniffling, I mumble, “Yes.”

  She stands up and takes my hand. “Come, let’s go.”

  We continue our stride to the bedroom; she lets go of my hand and slowly opens the door. The room is dim, but it’s still visible. The sun begs to shine through the dark curtains while dust collects on lamps and dressers.

  My mother walks over and sits at the edge of the bed. “Tony, honey, Roman is here.” She reaches his head and nudges him awake. My father mumbles as his eyes slowly open. Once he realizes where he is, he smiles and touches her face. His movements are slow and weak. The cancer is taking a toll on him. The nurse was right. Another sob escapes from her, and she rests her head on his chest, letting herself cry out. He wraps his arms around her, and I just watch in silence. I can’t imagine what they must be going through. All I see is them hurting and wanting to hold on tight for as long as they can.