her own issues.
When I saw Amelia tonight in that hideous dress, her skin pale as paper
and frail looking, I lost my shit. There was no spark left in her, but I still
reacted to her. The second I touched her when she lay broken on the
ground, told me enough, metaphysical proof that we still belonged together.
She looked terrified, but desperate. Her eyes were going to stay with me
for a long time.
I was planning on waiting for nightfall to sneak into the house and break
her out, damn the consequences, but I must have fallen asleep. I get my bike
from behind the tree where I stashed it, shaking out my jacket and getting
my helmet back on.
I hear sirens in the distance right as an ambulance comes barreling down
the road, the only thing down there being Amelia’s house. More sirens
sound off in the distance and immediately I know something’s incredibly
wrong.
I call Alex and Cameron, and as soon as they tell me they’re on their way
I’m speeding back towards Amelia’s house, nearly wiping out when I find it
to be a charred, wrecked pile of flames and soot. The flames are still raging
under the fire hose’s best efforts, and I get right back on my bike, knowing
she’s not here. If she’s anywhere, and I pray that she is, she’ll be at the
hospital.
Cam and Alex come to the same conclusion I did and show up a few
minutes after me, but they won’t let us in. We’re not family, and there are
privacy laws. The ER is too quiet, like it’s mourning for us. We spend the
night on the curb in front of the hospital, taking turns trying to convince
staff to give us an update.
Until Sophie calls Alex crying, telling us what I’ve been refusing to
admit was a possibility. That Amelia was gone, and they couldn’t get to her
in time.
I’m ready to lay myself on the train tracks and follow her, but Cam is a
better man than I am and somehow gets us to his house, his Mom sobbing
and trying to comfort us but that’s an impossibility. My whole nervous
system seems to be in stasis, shutting out the world one atom at a time and
protecting me from feeling more than I can.
It can’t be true. It just can’t. If Amelia were gone, then how on earth is
the world still standing?
Amelia
I flash in and out of darkness for an indiscriminate amount of time, my
limbs feeling heavy and weak as a constant hum of small machines runs in
the background. It’s calming. There’s no angry voices, nothing for me to
feel.
My brain is trying to figure out what’s happening, to place where I am,
but I’m relaxed and then something runs through my veins, dulling the
edges again.
The next time I wake up I want to sob. I try to cry out, to make sense of
the pain I’m in, but can’t. A warm hand runs along my cheek.
“Relax, sweet girl. You’re safe.”
The voice is unfamiliar, but it sounds warm and rich. Deep. I want to see
the face that it belongs to, but my eyes are completely bound.
“Shhh, just breathe, Amelia. You were in a house fire, but you’re safe
now. I’ll call the nurses in.”
My whole body feels like it’s still soaking in flames as I slowly
remember what had happened. I long to scratch at my arms, to do
something, anything to make the pain stop.
Footsteps approach, a soft squeak against tiles. Small, cold hands run
checks on me.
“Amelia, my name is Doreen, I’m one of your nurses. Your vocal cords
are probably pretty damaged from the smoke you inhaled, but can you tell
me on a scale from one to ten how much pain you’re in?”
Is there anything else to experience besides pain that I’m missing? I’m
scared to move, lest I cause myself more of it. I can feel my hands shaking,
my body trying to writhe to accommodate the assault on my nerves.
“Okay sweetheart, I’m going to take that as it hurts a whole lot.”
A cold rush through my veins has me feeling a little loopy and a lot more
comfortable, my pulse racing as I take stock of my situation. I hear more
footsteps, heavier this time, and a rustle of papers.
“Amelia? My name is Dr. Ward. You’ve sustained quite a few injuries,
but lucky for you that this guy next to you got to you when he did. Let’s get
a look at those injuries, shall we?”
I’m not sure how long I’ve been here, the passing of time impossible to
measure through all the black spots and healing sleep.
“Now, you’ve had surgery on your legs Ms. Knight, but the nerve
damage was very extreme.”
“wh.-wh…”
A warm presence scoots closer to me, though my arms feel covered in
bandages so I cannot feel much more than that.
“I think she is trying to ask what that means.”
I give a slight nod.
“Ms. Knight, there’s not really an easy way to say this. You were lucky in
that your arms were mostly superficial burns, those should heal nicely after
the skin grafts heal. It seems some sparks got into your eyes, and whether
you gain your vision back or not will be a waiting game.
“Your legs, now, are a different story. Mr. Adams told us a beam fell on
your legs, and that combined with the fire itself seems to have done
irreparable damage. You won’t lose your legs at this time, but we’ll need to
monitor them closely to ensure infection doesn’t set in.
“Also, we don’t expect you to regain use of them. We will of course get
you enrolled into therapy to help the healing process, and to push the limits
of what they’ll be able to do, but I want to remain realistic.”
I couldn’t really comprehend what he was trying to tell me. Was he
saying that I wouldn’t be able to walk anymore? Not be able to see?
“Thanks, Doctor.”
At least this mystery person has some manners, and the ability to dismiss
the Doctor. I know it’s not his fault that I’m in this situation, but I still want
him gone.
Theo
I’d always wanted to be a firefighter; always. When I was little, my
parents would take me to the firehouse every year when they did an open
house, we got to climb inside the firetrucks, try on the suits, they gave away
those little plastic helmets.
I’d always thought the men and women that worked there were real life
superheroes- running into burning buildings and rescuing people, saving
people’s homes, helping at car crashes…part of me knew that I had to
become part of that legacy.
I don’t think I ever faltered in my career plans. And now I know why.
When Amelia finally woke up earlier, it was like I was finally able to
breathe again. She was panicking, and somehow, I understood what she was
trying to ask. She even calmed a little when I spoke to her or rested a hand
on some of her less injured parts.
In the days she’s been in here, she hasn’t had a single visitor, and I can’t
figure out why. They were all convinced for real by now that I was her
boyfriend, and her earlier reactions to me helped support that claim. I’m not
sure she could ever truly see me in that light, but as
I watched her sleep,
watched her soldier through the healing process, it felt like my future was
clearer than it had ever been.
I became a firefighter, because I needed to pull her from that house, so I
could see her through the next phase. The thought of her not having anyone
sitting here to hold her hand and comfort her is terrifying.
Was I overstepping and maybe being a bit creepy? Yes, I think so. I was
on a leave of absence from work for now, God knows I had enough leave
time saved up. There was something about this frail girl in front of me,
something that was magnetic.
She hadn’t complained or acted as if I was making her uncomfortable, so
I wasn’t leaving her side. So far I had combed her hair, fumbled through
braiding it, painted her toenails, read to her, talked about my life…she never
said much back, but if I stopped she’d flutter about until she landed on me.
Her voice was getting a little stronger, I had even made her laugh once with
my stupid jokes.
I had figured out so far she had nowhere to go when she finally got
discharged. I had this caveman-like urge to care for her, so I was already
planning too far ahead. From all the doctors had said, she was in for a long
ride at the hospital, so we had time to get to know each other before I
worked up the courage to ask her to move in with me.
Why, you ask, would I want to invite a stranger to live with me? Movies
like to portray love like it’s pre-destined, that it just takes you finding that
right person and then everything will fall into place. I always thought that
was unrealistic; love takes work and dedication. It isn’t some happenstance
thing that just slides into place when the time is right.
Except that as I watch Amelia lay here sleeping, I kind of think I’m
changing my mind. She would be incredibly easy to fall in love with,
because she was so open and strong. She shouldn’t be able to have any sort
of humor after the shit show she just experienced, but somehow she kept
smiling.
I notice her start to stir a little bit in her sleep, her movements quickly
becoming jerky and uncontrolled like she’s having a nightmare, so I spring
from my chair and hover over her, letting her know she’s not alone.
“I’m here, Amelia. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Her arms are still bandaged up, but she still uses them to seek me out,
finding me and calming down. I wish I could see into her eyes, but I know
how important it is to keep them wrapped up while they try and heal. It
sounds like they won’t be quite the same as they were before the fire, but I
can be her eyes.
I kiss her on the cheek, pausing maybe a half second too long, but she
calms down and goes back to sleep, and I sit back down to continue my
vigil, my heart more and more lost to her the longer I stay.
Amelia
Darkness.
I’m getting better at hearing sounds, even able to pick out which nurse is
coming to visit me based on the foot pattern. Maybe the fact that my eyes
are broken is good, because I don’t have to see the way my body just
changed.
I still don’t know much about the angelic man that seems to keep
showing up, though now I know his name is Theo and he works for the fire
department. I hear lots of beeps and whirs and voices in the corridor
throughout the day, sometimes nurses talk to me, but it’s his voice I always
look forward to the most.
I can’t keep track of time passing, not sure I really want to. If I’m going
to be stuck in darkness though, it helps to have someone friendly nearby.
We had laughed about the fact that the nurses all thought we were dating,
and every time he left the room they’d gush about how sweet and attentive
he was.
And he was.
He seemed to have a little bit of a rebellious streak in him, hanging
around just because he wanted to, when in all reality that should have been
pretty inappropriate. But he calmed me, made me feel safe. My heart was
breaking all over again for what I had lost with my men, but if I could make
a new friend then maybe I’ll survive.
I’m not sure why he’s being so sweet, spending so much time with me
and taking care of me, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Anytime I’d try and protest, or try to let him off the hook, he’d just tell me
to stop. Tell me he was an adult and was exactly where he wanted to be.
Well, then.
Alex, age 18
My phone goes off again, Sophie’s name flashing, and I throw it against
the wall. I can’t talk to her. The reasons I had for remaining friendly with
her before no longer matter. Right now, anything that reminds me of Amelia
is just pain. Pure and simple. And I need to do everything I can to avoid
that.
It’s been months since we sat in that church, hovering in those pews
while we poured our heart over the empty casket on display. They say the
remains were too far gone to be moved, so they were just incinerated and
that was that. Neat and tidy.
Except that life is fucking messy.
because that would mean I’m moving on, and that’s something I can’t do. I
knew our parents were worried about the lot of us, but at least they had
stopped trying to get us to go to school, allowing us to scrape by with the
online setup Amelia had been dealing with. We were being shits to them,
but parents are supposed to love us unconditionally, so they’ll still be there
when we’re done throwing ourselves away.
Just like I would have been for Amelia.
Fuck. Just the thought of her name was like poison flowing through my
body- it licked my veins with fire and made my whole body shake. This
wasn’t normal. That’s how I knew she was the real deal, that the way I
loved her wasn’t some childhood fantasy I dreamed up.
The fact that Cam and Constantine weren’t faring much better was proof
that she was a real person that lived a real life, and the fact that she’s gone
just isn’t something I can really process. She should be getting ready to
graduate with us, not swept up and deposited into the ground in that fucking
box.
I hear the guys walk into my house downstairs, not even bothering with
knocking because they know I won’t answer. I just continue to lie on the
ground and stare at the ceiling, focusing on nothing in particular. They
crash through my door and fall next to me, and with the door shut we’re
able to hold each other’s hands and feel something other than absolute
destruction for a short moment. If no one sees it happen then no one will
know that loving Amelia made us even closer than we had been, and that
losing her made damn sure we would never abandon each other, and we
won’t have to try and explain anything to them.
Amelia, age 18
I’ve been in here for so long now that I forget that I’m not supposed to be
here. The hospital may be depressing for some people, but how sad is it that
it’s the safest place I’ve ever been? I’ve
got a case worker assigned to me.
Seems this hospital puts a lot of importance on mental health, they say that
I’ve had a life-altering injury and that I’m at risk.
At risk for what? I’ve been at risk my entire life.
The lady that comes to speak with me is sweet, though. Nice. Her voice
reminds me of the way the wind used to rustle through those dark green
glossy leaves on that magnolia tree in a different lifetime. It took me a bit to
realize she actually wanted to hear my story. So, I told it. I didn’t think that
it was shameful, it was just mine.
She was good, I’ll give her that. She didn’t react to the awful abuse I
outlined from my father, the mental manipulation from my mother,
encouraged me to continue when we made it all the way to my aunt ripping
me from the other pieces of my soul. She just patted my arm. I thought I
had heard her sniffle a few times, but she always recovered quickly.
Theo started sitting in on sessions, and his reactions seem a bit more. He
kept having to leave the room, promising me he wasn’t angry with me. I’m
not sure why he cares to make that distinction. I’m just an orphan now, and
a useless one at that. Why should my story make him upset?
My case worker, Sasha, has found a way to make me smile. Now when I
mention my boys, it doesn’t hurt as much. I can think of them as the only
light I’ve had and know that they made a difference in my story. They
brought light to it when otherwise it would have been even more dismal.
Amy keeps telling me that I’m worth more than I think. That I’m strong.
Something that Theo likes to echo. He calls me his strong lady. His hands
are nice to hold, too. We’re friends now. He says he’s a few years older than
me, but I don’t care. A friend is a friend.
Nearly dying has made me lose a lot of my anger, burned through a lot of
my issues. I had decided that I was just going to figure everything out as I
go, and not worry too much about the how. Maybe one day, when I was
more healed and able to interact with the world again, I’d consider letting
the boys know I was doing okay. But today is not that day.
I could feel bad for myself and mourn all that I lost in that fire, cry over
the fact that I was too damaged to be loved, but today I was just going to