Burning

I could hear the terror.

The fire alarm in my apartment building whined obnoxiously. Running could be heard in the hallway outside as families made sure everyone was getting out safe.

"Grab the baby!"
"Where's Jimmy?!"
"He's already outside."
"Should I grab my purse?"
"Just go!"

Rather than run, I poured myself another drink. What did I have to run for? There was no love of my life, no child to raise.

The one love I thought I had was with another. She assured me they were just friends. She said she didn't even want to talk to him. But yet there they were, hand in hand, licking ice cream cones from Dairy Queen. I was so good to her. I treated her as if she was a queen!

What set it off? Cigarette in a wastebasket? Candle left burning? Arson? I did not really care. I sipped at my drink, deep in thought.

No one ever made me so happy. Just thinking of her used to make me smile. Now all it does is make me want to refill my glass. After I saw her with him, she could not bear to talk to me about it. From a woman who used to call me twice a day, she became a woman who has not called me in almost two weeks.

"I wish he would just quit so I would never have to see him again," she said.
Lies.

Smoke rose up alongside my window. The fire was a floor or two below mine and soon enough it would climb the wall into my apartment.

Where was I to go from here? Go out, start anew? I was getting old. Already late in my twenties and going nowhere in my career. My chance of getting promoted is about as good as my chance of staying sober today. Accountant. What a boring, lifeless job. Why couldn't I have picked a job with meaning, with purpose? Something that mattered to people. Instead I am just another number cruncher stuck in a cube within a building.
And still, that job is all I have to live for.

A knock came on my door. The last good samaritan checking to make sure everyone got out alive. When there was no answer, he moved on to the next apartment, quickly weaving through halls before the fire blazed too high.

Why did I even make it this far in life? My parents died a few years back. I have no siblings. The only friend I have is a drinking buddy who drowns his sorrows in the same elixir I use. I have no one in my life.

The fire trucks could be heard coming from miles away, but I was sure they would not reach me before I was reduced to cinders.

Is this it? Did I really want to die? Perhaps if I stuck it out I would find another girl, get a new job, discover some friends. On the other hand, I might also just live out the rest of my life in a drunken stupor, complaining about how bad I have it.
Whatever I choose, I only have a little time left. How do I want them to find me? Burned out from a fire or burned out from life?
Maybe I will pour... pour myself another drink.

As I stood up, I almost fell over. Smoke hung low in the air, and I found myself slow to react. Choking my way through the darkness I stumbled to the cabinet. I grabbed the bottle one last time, but it slipped through my fingers and shattered on the ground.
Within a couple more seconds I joined the bottle.

***********************

When I opened my eyes again, the world was a sickening color of hospital white. If one sees a shade of white that clean, he knows he is in trouble.
"Are you awake?"
I knew that voice. It was the serenading voice that now pierced through my ears.
I turned my head and was alarmed at what I saw. There she was, sitting beside my bed...
...with a new black eye.
"Wha-??" I tried to speak, but could not find my voice. I was concerned about her, but she was more concerned about me.

Quickly she leapt forward and wrapped herself around me. "I was so scared." She backed away and before I could see her again, she began to kiss me repeatedly. Soon enough I found myself engulfed in her embrace again.

My wounds from the burning began to subside as I wrapped my arms around her.