Julia sat peacefully in one of the many beautiful gardens of Pompeii, on the morning of August 24, 79ad. She was dreaming of the night before, one of the best times of her life since her parents had died and she’d been taken in as a servant for a wealthy family, of which there were many in this town. About a month ago, Julia had been watching the gladiator games in the amphitheater, and, as a reward for her hard work, had been allowed to wear an elegant dress and sit in the front/bottom rows where the richer citizens sat. Afterwards, a boy her age, who was obviously higher classed, had introduced himself as Pliny. They’d talked for a while, and he walked her home. Of course, Pliny assumed she lived in the house, not as a servant, but as a member of the rich family. That is, until he’d seen her in rags working in the fields. He’d been outraged at first, stating he never wanted to see Julia again. She had started to really like him and was crushed, but he hadn’t been able to hold his grudge for long, and they started secretly seeing each other. They’d walked along the beach last night after everyone had gone to bed, and Pliny told her he’d refuse to marry his betrothed, determined to find some way for him and Julia to be together.
“Julia!” a voice called, startling her from her revere. “Julia! There you are; I’ve been searching everywhere for you! Figures you’d be out daydreaming in the garden when there’s work to be done.”
“I’m sorry mistress,” Julia immediately replied, lowering her head to show her shame, though inside she was filled with a deep longing to be freed from her life as a servant. She followed her mistress back to the house to work with the other female servants spinning and weaving cloth6. Julia had been so caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed how dark it become. Black clouds filled the sky. Suddenly the earth started to vibrate, catching Julia off guard. ‘I hope it’s not another earthquake,’ she thought, remembering the earthquake in 62 that had destroyed several of their monuments. Smelling something in the air that she couldn’t quite identify, Julia slowed down and stopped for a moment. Something about those black clouds also seemed odd, like an enormous mass of shadows creeping up on the town and blanketing the entire sky. She shrugged off the sense of foreboding and hurried to catch up to her mistress, who’d almost reached the house by now.
Before Julia could take two steps, another short tremor, more violent this time, knocked her off her feet. Shakily pulling herself to her feet, she noticed a light, feathery substance in the air. ‘Snow?’ she wondered, but it couldn’t be, not in August. Then the terrible realization hit her: it was ashes. Mount Vesuvius, a nearby volcano, was erupting. Fortunately, it was far enough away that the lava would not reach Pompeii; however, the deadly fumes and ashes would. The trepidation that had started as a tiny seed within her when she’d noticed the odd clouds and smell blossomed into full blown terror, and Julia shivered, immediately wishing she was with Pliny. He would comfort her. Instead, she was completely alone out here, her mistress having gone inside already. The distance between her and the house appeared to be miles; she sprinted across it as quickly as possible.
Just as Julia reached the door, it opened and the family rushed out, no doubt seeking an escape from the town. She turned, following them. They rushed to the shores to get away by boat, only to discover that escape by sea was impossible: the waves were much to wild and dangerous and would cause the boat to capsize. The family ran to find another way of escape, but by now the beach was crowded with other citizens desperate to get out. Some tried shielding themselves with any flat object they could find, while others held clothes over their mouths to prevent themselves from inhaling the deadly fumes seeping into the air. Julia scanned the chaos for Pliny. ‘There’s his parents,’ she thought, recognizing the influential citizens. ‘But where....?’ It wasn’t difficult to see he wasn’t anywhere to be found. Julia’s blood ran cold. Something must have happened to Pliny. Without thinking, Julia turned away from her mistress’ family and ran back into the town.
By now the sky was not only pouring hot, thick ashes, but bits of pumice and blackened stones charred by flames also fell. However, Julia remained impartial to it all; her primary concern lay with finding Pliny. She yelled his name, the fumes burning her throat as she stumbled through what was now almost solid darkness, broken only by small, scattered fires. Weakened by the foul air and mildly injured from the falling stones, Julia finally fell to the ground, giving one last, pathetic call, “Pliny.”
Suddenly she heard a cough as soft as a whisper in the surrounding chaos and a voice responding as weakly as her own, “Julia?”
“Pliny!” she cried, gathering renewed strength from the sound of his voice. She struggled to rise to her feet, but found herself incapable and settled for crawling instead. After making her way through mounds of rubble and smoke, Julia eventually reached his side, her heart leaping with hope having found him. “Pliny, come on, we’ve got to get out of here right now!”
“Julia,” he managed to get out, struggling for air as he lay on his stomach. “I....I can’t. I can’t move at all. My leg....” She noticed then, for the first time, that his leg was trapped, crushed under a large chunk of a building that had fallen, and her heart sank with despair as she struggled to hold back tears, knowing any hope of being able to lift the stone that pinned him to the ground was futile. “Go, Julia. Get out while you still can. Get out and live.” Pliny closed his eyes, worn out by the simple effort of speaking.
Julia’s mind raced, torn between two desires pulling her in opposite directions like she was stuck in the middle of a tug-of-war. She closed her eyes, searching her heart for the answer to what she should do. Gathering the strength to speak her decision out loud, making it final, Julia whispered, “I won’t leave you, Pliny. I’ll stay by your side until the end.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, offering her the chance to change her mind and escape while she could.
“I’m sure,” she told him, certain she was making the right choice and taking his hand. “There’s no one else in the world I’d rather be with. Even if we die, right here, right now, I’m just glad I’ll be dying by your side.” And there they stayed, arms around each others’ shoulders, side by side, as the ashes rained down upon them.
