Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Short Story Playing With Fire English Literature Essay
Short Story play With Fire English Literature EssayMental disorders I performed resplendently in school, had relatively close connections with my family and kept a well-mannered grouping of friends how ever so, all of my feelings, actions and emotions could be thrown into disarray with the descry of a ace flame. Pyromania, it was called. It was also the close why I was forced by my flummox to come to this stupid group rehab centre. Everyw here(predicate) I went, there was a thick atmosphere of tension between everyone that weighmed impossible to break. Despite this environment, for the other(prenominal) month, I had been able to keep my composure each day with the accompany of one girl. From the very first day, she was the only if person in the dwell who wore a grinning the absolute promotearm. With long, brown hair, contrasting her fair skin, and a look of confidence on her saying, I thought of no reason why she should be here. Until I saw something which deeply intrigued me Her emerald green eyes, una appetite the sculptural relief of her appearance, did not reflect the same warmth and zeal. Rather, they possessed a continuous melancholic gaze that would always eliminate outside(a) her adjust emotions, so I had a tendency to avoid looking her in the eyes whenever I talked to her.Today, as I sit down down on the curb of the sidewalk, from my back pocket, I took out a plastic container and flicked the bittie wheel, igniting a small, exclusively strongly burning flame.You shouldnt be smoking at your age. It result only end with a long and painful death.I dont smoke, I said as I turned around to face the juncture, pyromania is different from a nicotine addiction. Casey, I swear I explained this to you the other day.She sit down down beside me, leaning in towards the flame. Ah, just now its unchanging based on the same principle isnt it? Fire, destruction, and death. She had a splendidly pained feeling on her face before she ad ded, How you can find the flames beautiful? They only inspire me of pain and misfortune. Dont play with fire, Parker. Youre only going to get burn down.I retrieve about that some clocks as well, I replied. What had caused this unhealthy affinity towards the flames? This all-powerful reliance towards fire? At first, it was just a fascination as a child, hardly there was a point in time where it completely took over my actions. The sluicets of that night lingered with me flush now. Every detail was chip at deep into my memories from the estrus of the fire, to the very lighter I used to stria the kinsperson ablazeStand aside kid, came the gruff voice of a police policeman. Go find your p arnts. Its not safe to be here. I was roughly pushed behind the yellow police tape as the officer hurried back to his car, and the sound of sirens grew louder.From a safe distance, I stood still, spellbound by the violent orange blaze that continued to engulf the reside in see of me. Bead s of sweat began forming above my brow from the searing heat emitted by the burning house. Twenty legal proceeding that was all it took for the house to be completely devoured by the burning flames, and for the entire structure to begin dropping apart. Thick billows of smoke collected, making it to a greater extent and more difficult to give out as the fire consumed the oxygen close by. The crackling of the wooden beams grew louder, with the house on the edge of collapse. Without warning, a girl parted from the crowd and ran towards the flames, only to be held back by the same officer as before.My parents are still in there Pl puff Someone, anyone, help them I-I dont want them to but her last words were cut off as the last of the reinforcement beams collapsed. Tears overflowed from her eyes as she fell to the ground, completely helpless and traumatized.Conversely, from amidst the dismay of the crowd of onlookers, I remained completely calm, never breaking eye opposition with th e blaze for a single second. It was too beautiful a sight to look away from, as the flames continued their dance in the wind. It was like a giant bonfire, sending sparks flying everywhere. The night sky was lighted with its bright orange glow, making it as bright as day. I reached forward, feeling the heat of the fire grow stronger against my palm, and for just a few moments, time seemed to stopThis was more than viii years ago I was only ten years old. I remember hearing the chase morning that the residents of the house did not survive the blaze from that night, but at that age, I couldnt distinguish between life and death, nor did I realize the austereness of my actions. To this day, I still cannot crawfish out the exact reason for starting the fire. any I could remember was the sight of the glowing flames in the night, regretting nothing. But for these eight years, I had been harbouring this memory to myself, refusing to tell a soul. Earlier on, I thought about telling Case y, but after seeing her pained expression towards the smallest flicker of a flame, I couldnt bring myself to do so.For the month that Ive cognize you, Ive noticed that you space out a lot, said Casey, demonstrating her point by waving her hand in front of my face. Smiling, she continued, the smell of the lighter swimming must be affecting your brain somehow.I returned to reality. Realizing she was right, I retorted, I can cure this problem just fine without your input. Anyways, why dont you ever talk about your problems for once? Its been a month, and I still recognize nothing about you. I dont even know why you look into into rehab in the first place. I mean, as far as I can tell, theres nothing wrong with you.It was my decision to make, Casey replied, watching the passing cars on the road.Still, why dont you do yourself a favour? Check out of this oil production place and spend the remaining days of summer back photographic plate with your family.What do you know? Have you e ver thought to consider that Im here for a reason? I cant return to my family even if I want to. She stood up abruptly, and started walking back towards the rehab centre. Out of impulse, I stood up as well, making eye contact. For the first time, I saw her grimace, but what was far more intimidating was the hostility in her gaze even from a fair distance, I could sense it. My comment definitely smash a nerve.Before reaching the doorway, she looked back one last time and said, Its going to rain. You should toss inside the facility soon, and she slammed the door behind her. Aggravated, I took out my lighter, trying to light a small flame to ease my tension, but it was no use.Out of lighter fluid, I sighed, so in the end, you got what you wanted, somewhat. Ill need to get a new one tomorrow. I sat back down along the curb of the sidewalk, when moments later, I felt up a light shower of rain against my skin. What a perceptive person.For the rest of the week, I avoided Casey, until I saw her knitting something blue in the lobby. I decided not to start a conversation with her. Instead, I sat down in a chair across from her, staring intently at the repetitive motions she made as the fabric grew longer. After a while, she sighed and finally spoke to me.Im knitting a scarf to put on a teddy bear. Its for my baby brothers birthday. I havent seen him in a while though Her voice was depressed, yet she continued, but I have a permit to go visit him and my family tomorrow. This is an awkward question, but do you beware coming with me? Ill chthonicstand if you cant, but youre one of the few sight that I trust here. After a while of thinking, I managed to give a nod and everything was planned out for tomorrow. As she left the lobby, her smile had returned. Little did I know that there was so much more that she hid from me behind that smile.At exactly 10 AM, I returned to the same secernate that I sat in yesterday, and I noticed how empty the entire lobby seemed without Casey there. At any rate, I was sure the mood would intensify when she arrived. Five minutes passed fifteen minutes passed forty five minutes passed, and I became unexpectedly worried. I contemplated going outside to light a flame with my lighter, but it would be terrible for her to see me like that. Instead, I decided to go find her. However, this was easier said than done, because the rehab centre had many rooms, and I had no idea where she was staying. Nevertheless, I ran around the building looking for her, prying through every corridor, checking the courtyard, knocking on doors to ask if anyone knew where she was staying, but to no avail. Out of breath, I paused and passed by the girls washroom, when I heard hushed insistent coming from behind the door. Could that possibly be her? Pulling up closer, I called her name, but there was no answer. As awkward as it was to enter, my fearfulness for whoever was in there outweighed my embarrassment.However, I was horrified at what I found. It was Casey, but not how I expected. She was sitting on the floor, sobbing, her right arm finishing her eyes, but not the tears from her face. From a distance, I could see the electric arc from the scarlet tinted blade on the tiled floor. Her left arm was make full with scars, with three fresh slashes running across them. A steady drift of blood flowed from them, enough to form a small puddle of sluice beside her. Impulsively, I ran towards her, took off my sweater to soak up the blood and I held her in my arms. Her crying just grew louder, but as she laid her head on my shoulder, I felt helpless, knowing this was all I could do for her. For what seemed like eternity, we stayed like that, her sobs eventually dying down to a slight whimper as I whispered Its okay over and over.Her voice shaky and in hushed tones, she said, My baby brother and my parents arent actually alive. They passed away eight years ago. There was a horrible fire that burned my house to the ground. I managed to escape safely, but my parents, they thought I was still inside. They went back inside for me, and they never came back out. They sacrificed themselves for nothing, and it was my fault I wish I had died instead of them. Every day, I wish that Sometimes, I would even try to make that wish come true. Her voice started breaking into sobs again, and I came to a appall conclusion. Could it be? Eight years ago, from the fire I started, I killed her family and was the reason why harmed herself like this. The misdeed I failed to feel from years ago rushed through me, as if it had been collecting for years. It was horrifying to make this connection, but it felt even worse to realize that I enjoyed every moment of the burning fire. Why did fire have to be so destructive? I wished I would never see some other flame. I never wanted to see Casey suffer like this again.That evening, under an orange painted sky, Casey and I visited the cemetery, where I saw the gravestones of her p arents and her little brother. She place her birthday gift onto her brothers tombstone, and she closed her eyes in a short(p) prayer. The whole time, I remained silent I didnt feel like I had the right to speak. As we started to leave, I turned around and whispered a pathetic apology, even though it was useless. To this day, I havent told her that I was the one who started the fire Im afraid of what her reaction might be if I do. But the guilt I feel each day is overwhelming, as I recall the image of Casey as a young girl, standing in front of her burning house, knowing her parents were burned alive in that fire and Casey cover in scars, cutting herself. These are the thoughts that come to mind whenever I re-ignite my lighter, and see the flickering flame, hoping that the guilt I feel from the memory of that night will one day miraculously cure this pyromania.
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