September. (A Josh Ramsay Fic)

Seventeen - Like a Wildfire

I don't remember much from that day. The memories were as hazy as the smoke that had curled towards the ceiling and licked the walls of the cramped room, engulfing us in mist as cloudy as our morality. My back pushed up against the wall, and my hands curling around the black strands of Josh's hair, his pressed cold to my bare skin as he kissed me. Both of our shirts lay at the opposite end of the large janitor's closet, having been thrown there a few fleeting moments before. We were numb, and yet we felt everything. He pulled away from me slowly, biting his lip and looking me in the eye, before saying "Let's go".

We threw on our shirts quickly, and he pulled me by the hand as we raced down the corridor. We had no destination, nowhere to be, except out of this place.

I dont know how we got there, but we ended up at Josh's house. Clothes were lazily torn away once again, this time thrown on the floor of Josh's bedroom.
Four hours, two piles of clothes and one used condom later, the effects of the drug was wearing off on both of us. Josh was jittery as per usual, and I found myself in almost the same state, if not slightly less so. "Fuck, I need more now" he sighed, and pulled a locked box out from under his bed. It seemed his parents had realised he was hiding the drug in his bottom drawer, and so he had a new stash.
As he only had one pen shell, I found an old biro that had been kicked to the corner of his room and gutted it. By the time I was finished, he had the gear ready- tin foil topped with the powder streched between two hands, pen shell between his lips, and a lighter sat on his bed ready for me. I picked it up and struck it, holding it beneath the powder and watching as it slowly bubbled, and the fumes rose.

We were both so entranced, kissing in the smoke for so long we didn't even notice when it turned black. It was only when the heat began to tickle my toes did I notice that Josh's bed was on fire. His bed, and his carpet. The carpet and the wardrobe. The wardrobe and the wallpaper.
"Holy shit!" Josh screamed, jumping up from beside the flames. He grabbed my hand and we both raced upstairs, barely clothed but still overheating. It was only when we got upstairs from the basement that we realised the extent of the fire- the entire bottom floor was already alight, and neither of us were sure how long we had layed surrounded by the burning embers.

Sprinting from the house, we turned to face it as we stood in the front garden. There, before my very eyes, I was watching everything Josh loved burn to ashes. His family photos, childhood toys, his music. God, even his heroin.

All up in smoke.

I dont remember much from that day, and I'm glad I don't.

But everyone remembers when 1712 Acadia Road fell.

We burnt the house down.