Young Writers Society

Ribbons of ruby red and golden yellow snaked through the boiling air. Everything was gone except the skeleton of a house that had stood there just hours before. Jack had fallen asleep smoking again, and this time he had actually caught the house on fire. Every now and then, droplets of water from a firefighter's hose would mist over Sam, teasing her with hope that Jack was still alive somewhere underneath that increasing inferno of rubble. They'd pulled her out first after she had stumbled down the smoky staircase and passed out on the living room floor. Last thing she'd seen was Jack's panicked expression trapped at the top of the stairs. She had tried to call out to him, but the cloud of smoke that entered her lungs when she parted her lips was enough to knock her out. The blackened bliss that she spent the next few moments floating through was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Nothing happened. There was just her soul and an inexplicable peace that washed over her like a shower in the most remote rainforest. She regained consiousness a few minutes later on the back of a truck. Some stranger in a red hat and big coat had placed something over her mouth and nose. It smelled funny and burned her nostrils when she breathed in. "She's up! She's ok!" someone yelled.

Then, Sam started to remember. It was like trying to swim through molasses. She slowly recognized the strange men as firefighters and realized the cozy heat surrounding her was coming from her inflamed home. Suddenly, it felt very cold. She remembered Jack and refused to be carried away by ambulance until the squad brought him out safely. That was fifteen minutes ago. Since then, she'd been crying into her oxygen mask. Or trying to, at least. Each time a tear escaped her eyes, it evaporated under the immense heat coming off the scene. She discovered that she was tightly wrapped in a blanket, even though the air was thick with warmth. She realized they had given it to her because her clothes had been burned off. Somehow though, the majority of her skin was intact. She touched the tiny sterling horse that hung on a chain around her neck. Although cooled into a slightly deformed shape, it had survived with her, and given her a nasty burn in the process. The burn had the perfect shape of the charm and chain. She knew it would leave a scar. "So this is what cows feel like after being branded," she thought to herself.

Suddenly, a commotion snapped her back from her thoughts. One of the firefighters was pushing something out of a second-story window. She craned her neck to see, surging with hope that someone had found Jack alive. Sam watched as Jack's limp form fell onto the waiting cushion below. Jack's rescuer then jumped after him, his arm on fire. Several other firefighters rushed to help him extinguish the small flame while paramedics scrambled to Jack's side. Sam didn't remember moving at all. All she remembered was sitting on the firetruck, then somehow being in an ambulance with Jack who was laying on a gurney. The bright lights inside the ambulance blinded her and all she saw for a few moments were round splotches of bright colors dancing before her squinting eyes. Pushing past paramedics, she scrambled to find a glimpse of Jack. He was so still. His face, although recognizable, was covered with burns and most of his black hair had disintegrated. How much longer had he been in the house after she was pulled out? Her tears flowed freely now as she rested her aching head on his still chest. She lay there for what seemed like an eternity, just listening for his familiar breathing, his steady heartbeat. She begged his hollow chest for a sign of life.

The paramedics were arguing about whether or not it was safe to use the AED on someone who had been burned so badly, or if standard CPR was best. "Please, Jack," she whispered into the hollow of his neck, ignoring the medics who were telling her to move, trying to pull her away from him. She willed her sobbing to stop. Then, so slightly that she could've imagined it, Jack's chest rose and fell in a shaky effort to breathe. Sam jumped up and came to her senses, grabbing the nearest medic with a deathgrip. "He's breathing!" She screamed. The already bustling ambulance crew now burst into a frenzy of tubes, needles, masks, and gloves. Sam curled up in the corner of the small area, finally allowing herself to breathe. Jack was going to live. She hugged her blanket closely around her fragile form and looked out the back window of the ambulance. Slowly, the rocking of the moving vehicle and the steady beep of Jack's heart monitor lulled her to unconsiousness. Things were going to be okay. Maybe not the same. No, never the same. But they would be okay.