The Fire

Description: A short story about overwhelming anxiety.

The Fire



The flickers of yellow were trickling closer and closer to Tanya. The warmth beckoned, but its hungry tongue scared the girl. She backed away from the claws of heat.

The flickers seemed to follow Tanya wherever she moved, leaving an enormous trail behind. These lights weren't normal though. They couldn't be turned off by a switch or blown out like birthday candles. They could only grow as Tanya moved.

Her possessions were shoved behind an unbreakable yellowness that couldn't be broken, reminding Tanya she had nothing.

She opened her mouth to scream for help, but no sound came out. Lost and confused, Tanya searched the room for glimmer of hope.

The door. Tanya's eyes darted to the silver handle which was brighter than the brightest lights in the room. All she wanted was to touch it. To turn the knob and race out from the terrible place. The door seemed to be the only way out, but it was blocked by the skyscrapers of light. There was no other way that Tanya could think of to leave.

The windows? She turned to look at the bright moon glaring at her through the glass. Tall buildings laughed at her as they stood tall and proud in the dark night. The one-hundred foot drop down to the sidewalk growled at her, shouting she could never do it. Never do it.

Tanya shook her head anxiously. The doorknob was too far away. The ground was too far below. Nothing seemed to want her or care for her. The columns of terrible light were the size of her closet. Even the door's shining silver handle had vanished in the roaring lights. She would never be able to escape now.

She braved the window again. The moon had become larger and nastier. Instead of just glaring at Tanya the giant ball of silver taunted her with menacing words. "Nobody likes you or cares about you. You should just give up."

Tanya looked at the buildings for help. They mocked her with their silence, no longer laughing at her pain, just sitting there carelessly.

Cackling burst into her ears as the sidewalk, one-hundred feet below, laughed uncontrollably at Tanya. She couldn't take the taunts, the laughing, the monstrous lights anymore. They all clouded her view, her hearing, and her feelings. All Tanya wanted was for anything to save her. Anything!

"Tanya, are you alright?"

Tanya blinked. The torches of light died down, the cackling of the sidewalk, one-hundred feet below, quieted, and the moon's taunting faded slowly into whispers in the background.

Very softly, Tanya tiptoed into the flames and toward the now bright doorknob. Pain instantly shot up her legs and traveled through the rest of her body, but she kept moving toward the door. She had to.

The closer she came to the destination, the more the pain. Tanya felt light-headed and tired. All she wanted was a peaceful, long nap, but she couldn't stop. Now, she was at the door. Flames bobbed at her ankles trying to grab at her thighs. Pain hurtled itself at her, not having enough.

Taking a deep breath, Tanya reached her hand to the doorknob. As soon as she touched it, a sweet calmness rode carefully through her fingers and into the rest of her body. She no longer heard the laughter or taunting, but only felt the soothing hand of the doorknob. Nothing except Tanya and the doorknob  existed. Even the flames had gone.

Feeling refreshed, Tanya turned the knob slowly. She opened the door to a room so familiar to the one she was in now. The only difference was the calm daylight streaming through the window showing a peaceful sun lazing around in the bright sky, warming the world. Warming Tanya. Letting go of the doorknob, she stepped into her bedroom.

"So Tanya," her best friend Auttaa looked deeply  into Tanya's eyes as they sat on the bed, "Are you ready?"

Author's Note

This is written from my only personal feelings. Please keep a look out for grammar mistakes and overly repeated words.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

Normally I'm too literal to be able to decipher such a symbolic piece, but I had the help of your initial note, explaining this to be how an anxiety attack feels. With that in mind, I could appreciate the way you used this fire metaphor so well. I especially liked the part where she starts walking toward the door & the fire leaped up her legs. Not anxiety so much, but I've had that feeling in other ways, so it's a very recognizable feeling, the door being anything a person is both anticipating & dreading. Nice job & thanks for the exercise in reading outside the literal words