Raging Fires (updates regularly)

Chapter One

First, there was nothing. Then, there was something; a light. It burned brightly, so that it was all that I could see. Burning... it was a burning light.

Images and sounds flooded my mind. Screams, a fire; it was all so real. I could almost feel the flames licking at my skin.

I started to hear a different shouting nearby, yet somehow, far away. It was a man, but I couldn't see him.

"Hey! Hey, girl!" Was he talking to me? "Wake up. Hey, wake up." I could feel my body rocking back and forth, which gradually transformed into shaking.

Slowly, a different image started to form before my eyes. This one was moving, and it was worried, and it was handsome... and holding a flashlight in my face.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked. I couldn't see myself, but I knew the confusion was written all over my face. "Can you hear me?" Slowly, I nodded. I started to notice the pounding in my head. Had I fallen?

"What's your name? Can you talk?" he worried over me. I took a moment to assess the situation. I was lying in a pile of charred and broken wood. In fact, I was buried in it. I was covered in soot and ash, and a beam was crushing my arms and ribs. I coughed painfully and tasted what could only be blood.

The sky was black, and it was difficult for me to see anything beyond what the flashlight would show me. I felt as though I was the center of the Earth. The man, sky, soot, and wood all hovered over me.

"Don't worry, I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?" he said in a strained voice. He stood, and began working at the beam. All I could do was lay there, falling in and out of consciousness.

Finally, he gave up. The beam wouldn't budge. I had come to the conclusion that I was in a fire, and that I had no memory of who I was. The man didn't ask me anymore questions, but sat there in frustration, staring at the beam atop me.

"I have to leave you." he said quietly. I don't understand it, but a sudden fear gripped my heart. He saw it in my eyes, and came to lean over me again. "You're far out in the countryside, and no one knows what's happened. If I don't go get help, you'll die."

"I —" I choked up with another cough. The pain was searing. The man looked at me with a pained expression.

"I promise I'll be back soon."

"No —" I began with another cough. He laid his thumb over my lips and wiped away the blood.

"I promise. Now, try not to move." With that, he stood and walked out of sight. Despite his warning, I strained against the wood out of fear. The quiet scared me because I knew that I was alone. The pain was agony, but I continued to thrash under the weight of the beam. It didn't take long before I blacked out.

What seemed only a few seconds later, sirens were ringing in my ears, and the colors red and blue flashed before my eyes. I could hear shouting over the loud of the sirens and clinking of metal.

"She's over here!" I could hear the familiar voice of a man.

"The poor girl's still alive." This time, a stranger's voice. My vision was still blurred, but I could make out several humanoid figures rushing around me. The sounds were deafening, and suddenly, an enormous weight was lifted off of my chest. I let out a sigh, but it immediately turned into a coughing fit, and I felt the blood splatter. It felt as though my lungs were engulfed in flames and razors were embedded in my rib cage.

I felt myself lifted in the air and laid on a cold, moving surface that sent my body into a sort of shock. Something sent a jolt through my arm, and I cried out. The beam must have broken it. I didn't get much time to confirm the theory because in that moment everything went back to black.

——————

Another light. This time it was fuller, more natural. I knew immediately that I was indoors. The only light came from a window next to me. I was in a plain, white room; the door was closed. I decided that I could only be in a hospital.

A sort of growling noise jolted me, and I let out a painful whimper. My ribs and right arm were still injured, but at least my lungs no longer burned. I looked to where the noise had come from and saw a man. It was the very same man from before. He sat in a chair across the room, sleeping in a most uncomfortable position.

I stared at him in wonder. I could see him much better in this light. He looked young and peaceful in his sleep; almost happy. His thick, pale brown hair shaded his eyes, and a shadow was cast across his rather full, pink lips. I was a bit captivated, watching his chest rise and fall with his breathing. My own breath was shallow, careful not to anger the glass shards in my chest.

     Another loud growling noise sounded deep in his chest; he was snoring. I smiled despite myself. I had begun losing consciousness again when a sudden change captured my attention. It was a change that I didn't particularly like. His once peaceful face was now contorted, and his arm began to twitch. He looked as though he was angry, but something told me otherwise. He was in pain.

     It wasn't his body that hurt so, but his heart. His brows furrowed, his jaw clenched, and a single tear slipped down his cheek. His breathing had become as shallow as mine was. I can't explain it, but his suffering seemed to be contagious, or possibly familiar. I couldn't help but cry with him. It was almost as if our hearts had synchronized.

     I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to sob; willing the tears to stop, for I knew the pain it would bring.

     "You're awake." The suddenness of these two words startled me. My eyes shot open, as if by the flip of a switch. The sleeping man was now awake, watching me with strange intent. Even stranger, his face no longer showed any signs of feeling anguish at all. He jumped from his seat, only to sit at the edge of my bed. "Shh, don't cry."

     He looked at me kindly, wiping the tears from my face. To my surprise, I had done as he said. His eyes, deep and blue, seemed to stare straight into my very soul. He seemed to be searching for something he could not find. For what felt like an eternity, we just stayed there. There was no movement, no sound.

     Then, the door opened. A woman dressed in blue entered the room, fixated on her clipboard. She didn't even bother to look up. The man and I looked to her, and I was somewhat relieved that the moment had ended.
    
     "Mr. Johnston, would you—" she broke off, finally looking up. For a moment she just gawked at us. I could almost see the strange thoughts racing around her head, and I have to say she looked quite odd. Thankfully, she came to her senses and forced a smile.