Burning Down

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire and all I could do was panic.

That hadn't been how the day started. It had started normally with coffee and talking to my friend, Natalie. But when I looked away from my laptop screen, the trees in the backyard were on fire, throwing sparks and smoke into the air. They all seemed to land somewhere, spreading the fire. It blended with the leaves, turning to red, gold, orange.

The heat from the fire rushed toward the door when I opened it to these how hot it was and it seared through every layer of clothing I wore. I could feel it against my skin and I ducked back into the house. I didn't want this to be the way my life ended. There wasn't a choice. I couldn't stay. There was nothing to protect me.

I spun around and ran through the house to the front. The fire had already spread there as well. Every route of escape was blocked. I could hear the sirens in the distance. Another thing I didn't have to worry about. Someone had already alerted the authorities.

I could hear Natalie calling to me from where I had left our video chat up on my laptop screen. I could sense her worry and knew she could see the flames. I didn't know what to tell her and I didn't think I could make it out alive.

Make it out alive.

Make it out alive.

Make it out alive.

The words sounded in my head, trying to convince me there was still a way out, but I had stepped outside and knew there wasn't a chance. But if I didn't try to escape then what would Natalie and the rest of my family and friends say? I took a deep breath. I could try. For them.

I yelled an apology to Natalie, grabbed my laptop, closed it and ran out the door. The heat from the fire contrasted with the cold air. I hadn't had time to grab a coat, so I stood in the driveway shivering, holding my laptop to my chest as if it would protect me from the cold and wasn't a piece of plastic and metal that was only going to soak up the cold from the air.

"Sara!"

I turned. It was Ian who ran toward me, then he stopped, looking up at the flames darting between the trees.

"My God," he muttered. He studied me standing there in plaid PJ bottoms and a grey long sleeve shirt. "You're going to freeze. You'd better come home with me. We can call the insurance company later."

I knew I should argue. I knew I had family members who wouldn't understand why I was going to Ian's instead of calling Natalie. I knew Natalie would come if I called, but I didn't want to freeze.

I nodded, or maybe I said "okay". My mind was a blur and in the moment all I wanted was to be somewhere warm.

I tried not to look at the burning trees or think about the way the sparks would fly to my house and it to the ground. I didn't want to think about what I would find the next morning. The fire was going to burn either way, the only question was whether the fear was going to linger.

I followed Ian through the people that were starting to gather to see what was happening and others who were running away from the flames. I heard the whispers and saw the glares. I knew my neighbors were ready to blame me for the fire. I looked at Ian.

"Don't believe then," said Ian. "They don't know what they're saying. They don't know what you were doing."

Even Ian's words didn't relax me, and the fear and cold started to freeze my blood as we arrived Ian's. He ushered me inside and threw me several blankets before building up the fire. I put my laptop on the coffee table before I burrowed into the blankets and couch cushions.

"I'm sorry," said Ian.

I tried to shrug. "It was an accident. There's nothing anyone could've done." I threw my hair up into a messy bun. "I'm going to have to move. My neighbors are never going to forgive me and they're always going to blame me."

"They don't deserve you anyway because they don't know what you've suffered through."

I knew he was right. Ian and Natalie were the only people within driving distance that knew everything that had happened to me as a child. It had taken a lot for me to dig up the courage to tell them, but once I had, it was like I had a weight lifted off and I knew they were always going to be there me.

All I could do was nod. The words of thanks got stuck in my throat and I realized how dry it felt. Ian seemed to be able to tell because he left, then returned with a glass of water. I drank half of it in one gulp.

"Take it easy," said Ian.

I lowered the glass. "I should text Natalie or something. She's going to want to know I'm okay."

"Use my phone. I'll track down my laptop charger for you."

He handed his phone over and left the room. I lay back on the pillows and texted a quick message to Natalie. Even as I was typing, I could feel myself dozing off, and I knew the message was going to be full of typos, weird words and strange spellings.

The exhaustion from the day was finally starting to catch up with me. It was wrestling itself free and as I pressed 'send' I knew I wasn't going to win this battle.

***

I woke much later feeling tired, groggy and out of sorts. Ian was sitting in a chair near the fire, reading a book. I wanted to pretend I was still asleep. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to do anything or be helpful to anyone. I knew the days and weeks from here on out were going to be a sight and I knew there were going to be arguments with the insurance. I knew nothing about it and my father was dad and I felt clueless and drained and didn't have the energy to yell at strangers who would refuse even the most basic of the things I was for.

"Sleep," said Ian. "I'll find the information I need on your laptop."

"You don't have to do that."

"And you need to come to terms with what has happened. It's a lot and it's okay to feel whatever you want."

I knew it was okay. I knew I didn't owe anyone anything. Mostly, I felt tired and I didn't want to talk. I wanted to take a break and try to forget. Coming to terms with the fire could come later.

I dozed again. I'm not sure what Ian did. He must've dealt with the insurance because I never got a call from them and I was grateful because it was the part I was dreading. In those first days though, I watched a lot of TV, sometimes with Ian, sometimes on my own. I talked to my family and Natalie. I kept the conversations short. I was too tired to rehash everything.

When I closed my eyes, the flames were there. I was back in the doorway of my house, and most of my view was blocked by flames and smoke. When I saw it, I wanted to scream for Ian, but his name always got lodged in my throat.

I woke screaming though, and he was always there. He told me a could live in his guest room for however long I needed.

For a long while, I couldn't write, but one day I got the urge. I passed the show I was watching and pulled my laptop toward me. I started writing and it flowed out. It was like the words and the anger had been building for months instead of days.

I wasn't perfect, but it felt like a giant release; like I was finally edging toward my normal, that I was going to be able to turn to my first love without seeing flames on the inside of my eyelids every time I closed them.