Standing in front of the ruins, my brothers and I stare up at the tower remembering. Mt. Mayon watches in the distance.
I hear my father’s voice. “Whoever makes it to the bell tower will live forever. Don’t look back! Your mama and I will catch you.”
My brothers and I run as lava flows from the mouth of the volcano. We make it to the tower just in time.
Sadly, our father was right about one thing. Two hundred years later, we stand on sacred ground, our family and friends buried beneath.
Photo was taken by my daughter, Sarah!
While recently visiting the ruins of the Cagsawa Church in Albay, Philippines, our guide explained how the church was destroyed. He wove a story of villagers running to the church when Mt. Mayon volcano erupted in 1814. They sought sanctuary from the flowing lava but were sadly buried alive. The truth of this story has been debated, but he enacted the tale with somberness and certainty.
This story is my contribution to “Friday Fictioneers,” a fun group of writers who accept the challenge to write a story (beginning, middle, and end) using only 100 words. Each week we are provided a photo to inspire and away we go! This week’s photo was contributed by Jean L. Hayes.