Fire and Fury

Chapter One

Song for Chapter 1: “The Life”- By Hinder

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”                                                                                                                  

                                                                                                ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

                It felt as if a slow steady stream of cold was pumping from my heart, the area was becoming sensitive and aware of its own deep beating, and I could actually feel the strained twist of it in my chest. As the cold made its way through my veins it was as if it possessed me with an emptiness that took over every part of me. I could almost feel ice particles crystalizing in my veins. The feeling was overwhelming and rocked me like nothing else.

No, this is not happening, I tried to tell myself.

I hadn’t bothered to put away the book I had been flipping through when I got the call; the world seemed to stop and alter on its axis and everything else that had been floating in my mind was gone. I just dropped everything and left, getting into my car and speeding out of my carport. I tried to focus on the road which was a practical blur below my sight. I took several sharp turns, winding my way around a few blocks to get to his house. I looked at the setting sun, making its mark on the clouds around it and turning the whole sky into a fading snapshot of orange and purple. It was absolutely gorgeous. But the question remained, and always does; How can life keep going, how can everything be completely fine, when everything you know is falling apart. You expect some sort of altering change in the atmosphere, storms, disaster, something. But in the end, you are the only one feeling the tragedy around you.

I pulled up to his house, leaving my car parked diagonally to the curb carelessly. I quickly slipped out of the vehicle and kept my eyes trained on the house, as if it would disappear, as if he would be gone any minute of I didn’t focus on where I was going to. I walked through the grass in the yard and up to the doorstep. I looked in to the window near the doorway, and saw his parents in the living area. They were held in a tight embrace, and his mother, Marianne, was sobbing violently into her husband’s shoulder. Jarrod rested his chin on her head and held her tightly. Before my eyes, the man who never showed sadness or hurt, my practical father, let slow tears fall from his eyes. I felt something in me rip in half to see them like that.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was him. “Hey?” I said expectantly.

“Come around to the back and I will let you in the window, my parents may get mad.” He explained. He voice sounded incredibly different, full of what I can only explain as trying to be strong when he feels nothing but hopelessness. I hated that voice.

“Okay.” I responded, and hung up. Being careful so his parents would not see me through the window, I walked around the side of his one story house and made my way between the fence and the side of the home. This whole alley seemed to characterize his entire childhood, bringing it to tarnished life in a sense; Old bicycles, camping supplies, etc. I could feel the corner of my mouth perk up when I came across a part of the wall that was covered in black ash, two stick people were inked onto the white wall panels. There was a boy and a girl who was characterized by her long, wild hair. The two figures fought with swords and stood beneath fireworks that exploded above them. The figures did not have faces, but I knew that they were having the time of their lives at 7 years old. I also remember how his mother nearly beat us for drawing on the side of her house that fourth of July. I walked past the picture and turned the corner to the back of the home. After a couple steps I looked at the window before me, one that I had climbed through more times than I can count. I knocked on it a couple times before the blinds went up and slid the barrier of glass to the side. His hand reached out to help me up. I grabbed it and held firmly as I pulled myself into the room.  I made my way up on top of his bed and watched as he reached over and closed the window again.