Figure in the flames

Figure in the flames



The hot air of the fire and smoke surrounded me. But how had the fire started in the first place? I tried to remember, but it was difficult. Acrid-smelling smoke poured down my throat; I choked on its dry, hot texture, and I realized that I was too scared to think clearly. However, one thing was able to get through: I needed air. Clean, pure, fresh air.



I ran past the open mahogany door of my bedroom. It was burning quickly, but I managed to dodge a bright flame as I grabbed my phone by the door. Shaking with terror, I dialed the emergency centre. My trembling fingers fumbled for the buttons.



Racking my mind, I tried to figure out the details. I had simply knocked over a burning candle. But the fire couldn’t have spread that quickly, could it? I doubted it. There must have been something else.  I was feeling emotional, I recalled. I was reading a book—the final of my favourite trilogy. The ending had disappointed me so much …



I scanned the burned-down house.



No. Beside the consumed structure that once was my home, there was another fire, gobbling up our neighbours shelter eagerly. 



What had I done?! Then a black silhouette crept into the corner of my view from the flames. The neighbour – had he escaped? I squinted my eyes, trying to look more closely at the strange way he was holding his arm … and clutched in his arm? What was that?



A dagger? I gulped as I turned on my heel and escaped, running away from my demolished home, running away from the mysterious figure.



*****



The next day, the neighbour seemed to follow me everywhere I went. At lunch, I sat down beside my best friend, Josh, and told him what had happened. Josh was a nerd. He had bright blond hair with blue eyes and braces, with a matching personality with a thirst to prove his knowledge.

“Hm,” Josh said thoughtfully, as he brushed back his blond locks. “I really don’t know what to tell you, Acton.”



I sighed as I looked up from my sandwich. “There he is!          “ I yelped in alarm. I pointed a finger towards the orphic form.



“Where?!” Josh exclaimed at he glanced where I had pointed, but he had already disappeared from sight. “I don’t see him anywhere.”



“Weird,” I murmured. “I swear I saw him. You believe me, right, Josh?” I had known Josh forever. We were 15 now, and I had met him in Year One, nine years ago. He’d always been there when I needed him—when the school bullies attacked us and tried taking our Pokémon Cards; when rumours were spread about us as quickly as wildfire. I’d been a good friend too, like that time his grandmother died in front of him. We’d been there for each other, and I was hoping it wasn’t about to end.



“Of course I do,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Have faith—we’ll figure this out. Along with your strange fire power. I promise. I suppose you couldn’t try to do it now?”



I shook my head, as my own dark hair moved. I explained to him how I suspected it only happened when I was emotional or in stress.



“Oh,” he said with disappointment. I noticed that his head drooped a bit. Personally, I couldn’t see what would be the bright side if I randomly lit on fire. The only one that I could actually think of would be missing the remainder of the school day. “Maybe today’s math exam will help?”



“I hope not,” I said with a nervous gulp.



In the math room, our teacher quickly passed out the exam. I scanned the questions—these were beyond my understanding. What was I going to do? I was going to fail the test. I collected myself and tried to answer as many questions as I could. Once I was done with that, I looked at the blank questions that took up the majority of the test. To make matters worse, I could see the black figure of the neighbour—the one who was following me—by the door of the classroom.



That’s when I felt myself heat up, similar to what I had experienced the day before. Yet another fire. I looked at my hands, and I could swear that they were warmer than before. I touched my face and I yanked away. I had burned myself. Panicking, I got up and asked to go to the washroom.



I ran my hands in cold water and cleaned my face. I turned as the door opened and the neighbour entered. The same dagger I had seen yesterday was still in his hand, and he was still wearing a hood which clouded his face.



“What do you want?!” I screamed at him.



He didn’t say anything. He lifted the dagger and made a movement across his neck.



Dead.



He wanted me dead.



Terror flooded through me. I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed. He made a move towards me, but I somehow managed to dodge it. I ran out of the washroom, and escaped from the school.



I could see him running after me. The streets were empty, as everyone was at work. The sky was dark; the clouds were covering the sun. I ran into a nearby abandoned factory and shut the door behind me. The factory was dark and old. Cobwebs hung from the corners, specked with dust. Wooden crates lined the cold, gray, stone wall.



Suddenly, a thunderous noise came from behind me and a rock came sailing, right to my head. The neighbour had broken through the window using the rock and climbed in after me. The shattered pieces of glass lay at my feet and the dry, frosty air spread throughout the structure. Abruptly, he jumped on me. He was about the same weight as I was. I ran backwards and slammed him against the wall. I felt a pain on my back as he fell off. Instantly, we began rolling. We wrestled, his hands on my shoulders, trying to push me down. I realized that we were evenly matched by strength, and he had the advantage of a weapon- the dark, crude dagger that hung at his waist. I needed a distraction so I could get myself some sort of arm. I tried pushing him away with my feet, but he dodged it instead. I reached out sideways and I grabbed a small, sharp object. A piece of glass. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.



The neighbour whipped out his dagger and pressed it towards my neck. I could feel the sharp pain dig into my neck. I did the only thing I could do—I thrust the piece of glass and pushed it into his stomach.



A stabbing pain was at my stomach, but I managed to ignore it. “What are you?!” I screamed at him, as tears flooded from my eyes.

The neighbour’s hood fell off as he began laughing. It was as cold as ice and made me shiver. It began echoing, never ending.



The blue eyes I was staring at were the ones I recognized so well. They were my own.



I looked down at my stomach. The piece of glass that was in my hand just moments ago was pierced through my gut, blood streaming down. My t-shirt was now well bloodied as it stuck to my skin. The pain was unbearable. I felt a liquid choke through my mouth. I spat out a glimmer of crimson, on to my scratched hand.



I glanced back up at the neighbour. But he was gone.



That’s when I realized something. I was hallucinating the whole time. There was no fire power. There was no neighbour. It was just me and my demented imagination.



My breath began to slow down. Each inhale and exhale was a pang of anguish aiming at my heart. All I could hear was the echo of my last laugh and the heavy beat of my dying heart.



Ba dum… ba dum… ba dum…



Ba…dum.