Chapter Two
I am awakened by a loud ringing sound in my ears. I strive to ignore it, but when a horrible smell reaches my nose, I sit up and get out of bed all in one motion. I look around, realizing that there is smoke hovering in the air, just below the ceiling.
The house is on fire! I crawl on all fours down the stairs, avoiding the smoke as best as I can.
As I reach the downstairs, the smoke alarm rings deafly in my ears now. It’s much louder than it was when I was in my room.
“Dad!” I call, wheezing from the smell, the smoke and the stress.
I crawl through the house, checking in all of the rooms for where Dad could possibly be.
Where is he?
“Dad!” I call again, ending it with a very nasty cough.
I start to wheeze even more by the time that I reach the last room that I haven’t checked: his bedroom.
I grab the knob, but?
“Ow!” I yelp, just then realizing that the knob was hot. Not like warm-water-hot, more like scolding-red-hot.
“Dad!” I bang on the door with my curled fist. I hear a pained moan from the other side.
I take a breath and push on the door with all of my might. But it doesn’t dare budge a single inch.
“Dad!” I yell at the top of my lungs, tears forming in my eyes.
“Leave me!” I hear a muffled version of his voice reply, “I’m not leaving here alive!” The tears roll down my cheeks and evaporate as I bang on the door over and over, successfully releasing my anger and pain of the situation. The wood begins to splinter under the pressure of my fist, at the same time giving me tiny scratches.
As it has all melted away, I am thrusted back into reality. The heat is becoming really unbearable now.
“Angel,” Dad’s whisper comes from just on the other side of this stupid slab of wood, “You have to go. I meant for you to make it out alive, but I am meant to die here tonight.”
Wait.....
“You started the fire?” I scream as the fire licks the end of hall from which I came, “On purpose?”
I hear horrifying screams. Dad’s screams.
“Go!” I hear him weep one last breath before I hear his body hit the floor.
“No!” I bang on the door some more, even as it does not a bit of good. I don’t stop until an arm wraps around my waist. I fight against it as much as I can. That is, until my arms start to hurt and I get tired.
When all my brave strength has left me, I let the arm carry me out of the house and onto the grass in the front lawn. My heart barely patters in my chest and my eyes flutter in and out of consciousness.
A shadow leans over me. I can’t see who it really is, but....
“Dad....” I murmur, only halfway paying any attention to real life. Part of me wants to die and be alongside my dad in heaven, or whatever comes after death. I was never religious, but I’ve always wondered.
“Angel?” the deep voice comes from the shadow above me, “Angel Rosewater?”
Then everything comes back to me. In the form of a humongous headache, but other than that, yeah, I’m okay.
I sit up, my arms hurting like hell. I take a peek at them and they have wood splinters in them, up and down, from my elbows to my hands.
I open my mouth to speak before realizing that my throat is as dry as a bone. The firefighter hands me a water bottle and I gulp it down a little too eagerly. It is gone in less than a minute.
“Geeze,” he takes off his helmet and smiles at me, “You sure are thirsty.”
“I just made it out of a god damn house fire, so yeah! Maybe a little bit,” I reply, matching his proud smile.
I look him over, head to toe; I don’t mean to, I just do without thinking. He wears a black and yellow firefighting suit and he holds his helmet in his hand. Besides that, he has a head of moppy black hair and the brightest ice-blue eyes that I’ve ever seen. For a firefighter, this guy is very eyesome.
I regress back to the situation at hand, “Do you know what caused the fire?”
“Well, my crew found a broken lighter in the lower bedroom as well as....” He stops, an alarming look of concern in his eyes.
“What?” I lean forward on my knees, pleading with my eyes, “What? Tell me, please.”
He sighs and continues, “We found a charred body in the lower bedroom as well.”
At the sound of this, I bend over and wretch in the grass, but nothing comes up. I do this for a good five minutes, in which the handsome firefighter pats my back the entire time. It feels good to have him support me in this, even if I don’t know him very well.
I finally stop and fall on my back in the cool dewed grass.
I turn my head and look at the only home that I’ve ever known. It now sits completely inutile. It’s nothing but a wooden box held up by charred toothpicks.
I moan and close my eyes. My cheeks feel hot and my head still hurts.
“You know you can’t stay here right?” the firefighter's voice interrupts my almost-peaceful moment.
I open my eyes and see that he’s in the process of getting into his truck. He has one leg in and one leg out. His arm holds the edge of the door.
“What do you mean?” I’m desperate to stall. I don’t want to leave this place. Leaving this place would be like leaving a part of me behind. No. All of me behind. I’d be leaving my entire life behind, because this is the only home I’ve ever known.
“Your last surviving parent is...”He hesitates and I mentally thank him for that, “Anyway, he’s gone. And you have no other family that can take care of you. So?”
“Will you?” I interject.
“Huh?” He stops in bewilderment.
I repeat myself, “Will you take care of me?”
He just smiles. I smile back until he nods and says, “Sure, why not?”
He gestures for me to get in the fire truck and I do. I buckle myself up in the passenger side.
He starts up the engine and we drive off toward my new home.
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I’m back in the hospital room where I was before.
There I am again.
And also like before, the guy is back to visit me.
“Hey, Angel,” He says, almost sounding like he’s gonna cry. I don’t blame him one bit.
“How you been?” He looks toward the floor, “I don’t know what to do without you. I’m lost without you. Without your smile, your voice, your jokes....” He moves toward me and kneels by my side, “Please come back to me.” Then the tears start to drip from his dark brown eyes, “Please....If you can hear me, do something. Show me that you are listening....that you......care........” He can’t go on because his tears are flowing so fast now. Just watching him makes me want to do the same. I wish there was some way that I could tell him, Hey, I’m here. But I can’t. I just don’t know how.
He composes himself and he continues speaking, “I’m sorry, I just....” He exhales a deep breath, “This has been really hard on me, ya’ know?” Coming to this room, visiting you ever day in hopes that you will wake up.”
Without any warning, my grip on the view of this room begins to fade. In other words, I am leaving this place against my will. Again.
The last words I hear are his: “You will wake up, right?”