Addiction

Fear and despair pulsated through my body and shook the core of my being as I knocked on the door of my neighbor’s house, which had been engulfed by flames growing day by day for months now.  Mrs. Jane answered with her usual friendly smile and demeanor of blissful ignorance of the imminent danger in which she lived. “Hello Ami! How are you?” She asked.  Disheartened by her all too repetitive nonchalance, I pleaded “Mrs. Jane, I know I have been telling you this every day for a while now, but you really need to get out of your house! It’s too late to put the fire out!  Your house is going to crumble at any moment now!”.  At this she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Yes, I understand dear.  However, there is simply no time to deal with something that big at the moment.  I really need to get back to work now.  Thank you for stopping by!”  Dumbfounded, I grabbed her arm and in an uncontrollable voice said, “NO! You don’t understand, look at your house! It’s completely consumed by the flames!  You and your family will die if you don’t get out now!”.  Suddenly, she glared at me, her eyes ablaze, “Excuse me?  Do you think I am stupid, that I can’t deal with my own problems?  I SAID I would deal with it!   Now please go away, and keep your rude remarks to yourself.”  

                “I’m not trying to be rude to you!  I want you to be safe and happy and live your life! Can’t you see that? I’m honestly trying to help you! You are in serious danger!” I pleaded, an ocean of tears in my voice.

She then rolled her eyes and said in an icy tone, “Look, if you want me to be happy and live my life, then let me.  I am obviously trying to live right now, but you are making it difficult.”  The door slammed in my face.   I trudged back into my own yard with heavy feet, and the ocean which was in my voice a few seconds earlier began to leak out onto my cheeks.  A familiar arm wrapped around me and whispered in my ear, “You tried.  That’s all you can do.”

“She wouldn’t even listen to me” I sobbed as I turned and buried my head in his chest as he embraced me.

“I know, I know.  Its alright, we’ll keep trying.”, he crooned as he kissed my hair and caressed my back and arms.  I looked up at his face and saw that he was staring at the house; I could see the reflection of the fire in his eyes.  The gentle afternoon breeze caressed his silky black hair and flawless bronze skin.  The reflection of the flames engulfed his green irises.   “We’ll keep trying.”, he repeated, although never taking his thoughtful eyes off of the house.

I rested my head on his shoulder and with jittery lungs breathed in his scent. He smelled delicious, as always.  I pressed my lips to his collar bone and pulled him even closer to me.  He traced one hand up to the back of my neck and gently kissed my cheek.  “I love you.”, he whispered. “Let’s go take a walk, we need a break.” He released me yet kept hold of one hand as we began towards the sidewalk.

It was pointless to try to keep my mind off of my neighbor’s house, or any of the other houses on the block for that matter.  The entire neighborhood was aglow with hopelessly burning houses and ignorant people inside of them.  Only a few sporadic empty houses stood without flames, their inhabitants in the same frenzied state as we were in.   I sensed that the scenery unnerved Noah as it did me. 

Finally, we reached our destination, our temporary escape.  It was a large oak tree which sat beside an enchantingly beautiful pond.  The area was a bit secluded, so it was usually quiet.  He sat down and looked at me with open arms.  I nestled into his lap and wrapped my arms around him.  He looked out into the distance, as he always did while attempting to suppress his emotions.  This was usually done in an effort to keep me from worrying, in hope that some measure of peacefulness would seep into my mind.  “You don’t always have to be so strong.” I said softly, and kissed his jaw line.  He smiled and said, “Stop worrying about me.”

After a short pause I began to think aloud.  “There isn’t much else to talk about, is there?  So many of the people we know won’t leave their houses.  Why are they all so stubborn? Can’t they see the danger they’re in?” I pondered.  “No,” he answered, “they don’t believe us.  They are so blinded by the want, the need to stay in their houses.  They are slaves to their own desires.  They do not believe they will die.”, Noah said. 

“They’re not themselves anymore, suppressing their souls beneath their needs.  All of their cares are gone, their minds deteriorating beneath their skulls. It’s tragic, truly tragic…”

“Shh…”, he whispered.  It was then that I realized how close his face was to mine.  His lips touched mine, and I forgot how to think momentarily.  His large arms surrounded me as his fingers traced over my back.  I felt light headed and dizzy, as if the entire world had halted on its axis.  He was so warm and beautiful, breathtaking in the most literal sense of the word.  He stopped kissing me, but stayed close to me.   “I thought we came here to take a break.”, he reminded me gently, his voice smiling.  I smiled at the look on his face and relaxed in his arms. 

We then sat in silence, and all the while my mind was again slipping into the all too familiar pit of chaos that consumed my loved ones.  “I think we should go back now. I can’t stop worrying about them.” I said urgently.  He looked at me with empathy and nodded.  We rose up and began making our way back to the hell hole that was our neighborhood.

With each step we took, the tension inside me rose at a terrifying rate.  My mind reeled with thoughts about my neighbors.  What if it had already happened? What if we were too late? What if the house had come crashing down and the entire family lay strewn about, lifeless beneath piles of flame-infected ruble?  A rainstorm of tears then fell from my eyes.  At my first attempt at running Noah threw his inescapable arms around me and pulled me toward him.  “Please, don’t cry.”, he whispered in an earnestly soft tone, which would have made me melt at any other time.  However, my tears were nearly inexorable.  “I’ve tried so hard already.  She’ll never listen! It’s completely hopeless.  I would not be surprised if we found her dead when we go back.  It’s been such a long…”

He interrupted my quivering, fast speaking lips with his own.  He pulled away and pleaded again, “Please, don’t cry.  There is no word in existence that could describe what that does to me.”  I then tried to control myself, for his sake.  Despite this, the attempt was futile.  I was a bundle of nerves, and underneath his façade of control, he was too. 

We resumed walking, and Noah kept his arm around me.  He frequently stroked my hair and kissed my head, all the while keeping me beneath my breaking point.  We soon reached the house and what I saw crushed my spirit into all the hopelessness of my nightmares.  There where the house once stood lay a mountain of ashen shambles.  I whirled around to face Noah and met his expression of candid despair.  The sight of this had smashed his impermeable façade. He looked down into my eyes with heart wrenching sorrow, which made me sick to my stomach and dizzy.  Very, very dizzy, in fact. 

I tried with all my strength to wring words of comfort out of my lungs; I could never see him like this.  His big, soft heart shredded to pieces.  It took a monster of the worst kind to do that to such an angel.  I loathed the fire from the very core of my existence.  Was that a tear falling from those beautiful emerald eyes? I studied his broken expression and fell apart.  All of the blood drained from my face, and my world began to spin; all of the colors ran together as if paint on ruined canvas.  They mixed until they blended into black, and I was falling…

I awoke minutes later, and I was in Noah’s arms: my personal sanctuary, my stronghold.  I studied his eyes, and to my relief his brokenness was gone.  He smiled down at me and said, “Your begging paid off.”  Just then, I saw that beside Noah was a familiar face.  It was a face that I had known in all my years of childhood, a face that had seen me grow up, a face that represented joy.

Mrs. Jane asked, in a tone that suited her former self (prior to the ever-growing flames) “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Infinitely better now! You listened to me!” I beamed as relief flooded my heart, and saturated my bones.  I felt my cheeks warm, and my eyes danced with joy.  Noah helped me in sitting up, and I embraced Mrs. Jane.  “I’m so glad you are safe!” I cried in triumph.

“I know,”, she said, “thank you.”

All three of us stood up and began to walk, began knocking on the doors of houses with flames creeping up their walls.  As we walked, we walked with confidence and a sense of purpose.  Noah intertwined his warm fingers with mine and kissed my hand, and on we walked: hand in hand, heart in heart, and soul in soul.          

 

Author's Note

Its rough, so feel free to give constructive criticism:) And by the way, the fire represents any kind of addiction:)

Reviews

[robin]

There is only constructive criticism here. I like this story for its balance . I t flows well and it's easy to understand. Burning down the house is somewhat trite, but also not uncommon as a shared experience. The most real dialog is the foolish neighbor. Noah is unrealistic, too much of a Jesus figure. And as such you are a naught Catholic School girl like the Mary of the Apocryphal Ascension Gospels, who Christ enjoyed kissing leisurely. The protagonist reminds me of friends of mine in theater, melodramatic and over the top with "oceans of tears". So you might want to tone down the excesses or craft them more precisely than these sweeping epic emotions.
The quality of the write is excellent for form and grammar. Keep up the good work. Once you settle in to something more personal or honest, more "human", I'm sure your writing will come to astound us. You have the basics in hand and heart and soul.

[Becca]

Heather,
Having lived this in reality, you had my attention from the very first sentence. The emotions you describe are exactly the feelings that grip someone when they experience this devastation day in and day out.
The emotions are overwhelming.
You nailed it.

[Yvette Shaw]

First let me say, I don't read the author's notes, until after I read the story. I like to develop my opinion, based on the raw data. If I get confused, I'll go to the notes, looking for clarification...Not once did I need to do that with this story.

I was pulled in immediately, by the flow of the story. You captured my attention with the many wonderful descriptive lines that you wrote, some of my favorites...

an ocean of tears in my voice / with jittery lungs / I forgot how to think momentarily / He interrupted my quivering, fast speaking lips.

I love the way you used these lines in the story.

Without reading your note, I understood the fire to be something destructive in Mrs. Jane's life, something that she could not see, due to the fact that she was actually living it. She was to close to the...fire. When I read your note, I thought; excellent, you did a great job in using the fire to represent the addiction, my first thought was that maybe she was being physically abused.

The story flowed well, and I loved the ending. It was visually stimulating, and emotionally satisfying. At one point I wondered, why don't they just give up trying? Why do they care?...Your story actually took me there, causing me to care and wonder about these three people and what they were actually doing.

This story isn't rough, it's real. Well done, and thank you for bringing it to my attention. Excellent Write
One of my favorites.
Yvette Shaw

[Rogue_Nightwater]

I like the way you made the fire as an addiction but i was a bit confused at the beginning when you described the fire.it wasn't until i read your note that understood. other than that i was completely drawn into the story. Wickedly Lovely.

[Alyssa Dufresne]

Great story... I'm a bit of a sucker for love tales.

and as you said this is a draft - so there will be typos

which I find fairly annoying [-there's only two-], so I'll help you out - the corrections are in my notes

[emmajoy]

What a fascinating story, plus, the characters jump from the page. Ami's thoughts,worry, stress are so deeply expressed, I felt quite tense (fire's so devastating, really scares me ) Not sure if this was all an awful dream or an sickness... whatever it is, it moves along at a fine pace.

Only thing I'd add, and I'm no expert, believe me.. some of the phrases you use are a little stilted eg. we RESUMED walking... why not KEPT? or 'we REACHED OUR DESTINATION' - we ARRIVED AT...? it's great to use good grammar and vocabulary, but, write as you speak unless you're creating fantasy or whatever.

Many thanks for inviting readers and reviewers. I'll be back for more, be sure of that! Smile.

[CharlieO]

Oh and also why did you decide to call it addiction?

[CharlieO]

Like you said this is clearly a draft - you have some great material to work with here. I think you should come back to this in a little while and work on it. I don't want this to sound nasty because I think that this is a great piece.
I like the combination of the fire and water images/imagery, it was a nice contrast that worked well within this piece. Also I liked the way you captured the moments between Ami and Noah - especially their conversation and the lovely ending.

Like Jacqueline I took the burning house to mean trouble brewing that was consuming the atmosphere of the home, but people refused to acknowledge it, that is just my opinion though. The burning was present throughout, the two chracters could not escape from it and have a moment to themselves until it had been dealt with - which for me encouraged the reading I had of the fire/burning.
A really great write, you should definately be proud of what you have managed to create here, you have really managed to capture something. Congrats

[Jacqueline]

Very unorthodox and interesting story that lets readers take from it what they will. I took from it (the burning homes) as trouble that's been brewing in the various homes around you and your desire to save people from themselves. I'm probably *so* far off base, but that's what hit me after reading such a passionate and urgent tale.

Either which way, this story grabbed me.