Inflames

A story about a young teenager named Dylan who's house ends up burning down and his road to recovery.

Inflames

            Dylan wakes up again to another glorious morning, everything his way. He had his guitar leaning up against the window with only the headstock visible from the outside.

            It was a Saturday, meaning that the weekend was about half over with. He opens up the window that the beautiful Les Paul was balancing on. It once belonged to his dad before his parents he divorced and he gave up guitar and let Dylan have it to remember him by. He picked it up and begun to plug in and play. He made devious licks that were terribly good with mind bending, heart clenching proportions of high frequency beats that were so amazing, that the room began to dance for a while.

            He kept in mind that his room was the only place he could perform, at least for now. He wouldn’t want to be different then all the others at his school and be considered an abnormality sent down from the heavens to do nothing, but get in peoples’ way. He cranked up the amp to full blast and let out a riff of pure majesty and waited for the call…

            …”DYLAN!” a voice from above roared at him, “SHUT OFF YOUR AMP! IT’S ELEVEN IN THE MORNING AND SOME PEOPLE DON’T WANT TO GO THROUGH THE DAY WITH DROUPY EYES!”   

            The voice was his moms and it was sounding from her bedroom. Something about her anger voice made Dylan giggle to himself a little. He didn’t know what it was, but it was kind of funny.

            “Okay mom!” Dylan giggled.

            He walks downstairs, pulls out a bowl, grape nuts and milk. The bowl was special though. It wasn’t just any old bowl with calcium and lime all over the inside and outside of it. It was a special bowl that he got when he was first born during his moms baby shower. It was white and had beautiful black and bright stripes going around the bottom of the outside at an angle. He kept it on top of a cabinet where it was out of reach from anything that could bump into it. Each time he used it, he would very carefully wash it off.

            A few minutes later his mom came down. Her eyes had big purple and black sacs under them, with her hair a mess.

            “Hi, Dylan…” she said while she yawned, “You ready to go to school yet?”

            “No, mom, it’s Saturday,” Dylan pleaded.

            “Right, so you ready to go to church?” his mom said oddly confused.

            “No, mom, it’s still Saturday, not Sunday,” he said, now starting to find humor in her dazed condition.

            “Okay then, go do whatever,” she said.

            Her name was Martha; she is probably Dylan’s favorite between his dad and her. He always went to her for advice with questions and problems.

Dylan brought his grape nuts to his room and flipped on the big box TV in his messy room and flopped on his bed. He watched the TV flicker on to the news. The reporter was telling a story about a fire that broke out a few miles away from his house overnight.

“Phht,” Dylan blew air out of his mouth, “Nothing like that ever seems to happen around here. Maybe it would be a good thing if something like that happened. Some of these houses are really old and are falling apart and it would probably be good if they got repaired from a fire all nicer looking and stuff. Why does it also seem like these kinds of things always happen everywhere else in the world. You can’t go a day anymore without a big community getting wiped off the planet.”

After going through about two bowls of grape nuts and a bagel or two, two hours had gone by. This also included the nap he took between the grape nuts and the bagels (his bowl was his pillow). He washed the cereal off his face and wondered downstairs. His mom was in the kitchen making some breakfast of her own. Dylan had all of the condolences in the world for her. She recently got divorced from her husband, Dave. He became an abusive alcoholic and she believed that she wouldn’t have to be one of his victims. She already told him many times to quit, but he preferred alcohol over her.

“Hey mom, up now?” Dylan giggled.

“Yeah, need anything?” she asked.

“May I go down to Anthony’s?” Dylan asked.

“Sure, just don’t get yourself killed or anything!” she joked.

Even if she just got divorced, she still had a good attitude about it and didn’t snap at many people about it. She made jokes and did nice things for other people and doesn’t feeling like she should make the world go through the misery she goes through, even if she doesn’t think of it that often. She points out that “It is him who should be crying over it” and that it is his loss.

Dylan plopped on his bike and rode his Mongoose bike down the neighborhood to Anthony’s house. He left it in their drive way and sprinted toward the door.

“Ding, Dong!” The doorbell rang.

Anthony was quick to open the door.

“Hey there!” he said, “Isn’t it kind of early to be over here.”

“Dude it’s almost 2:00! How is that too early?” Dylan questioned.

Anthony was by far Dylan’s best friend. His family is very caring to Dylan and has contributed a lot into helping his mom get back on her feet after her divorce. Nothing could have helped her more. Anthony also knew Dylan’s secret of playing guitar and not really liking sports as much as most other people. Anthony was a lot like Dylan too, it’s just that he liked most sports and is really good at them too. He is also loved by everyone as a friend because he somehow has connections with everyone at the school in one way or another. Dylan thought this was weird.

“So what you wanna do?” Anthony asked.

“I don’t know. Wanna go down to Paco-Bell for lunch?” Dylan asked.

“Sure, got money?” Anthony asked.

“Will $15 do it?” Dylan asked.

“Sure,” Anthony responded.

They biked down to the local Paco-Bell and picked up a Paco 12 Pack. They carelessly chowed down and chatted away with their Paco Tacos in hand. They latter went down to the bridge that crosses over a little creek in the middle of town.

“So what are you going to do when you get home?” Anthony asked.

“I don’t know; maybe go to bed or something. Hey, how about I stay over at your house for the night if it’s fine with you and your parents!” He asked with excitement.

“That sounds fine. Wanna head back home now? It’s getting late.” Anthony said.

“Sure, you head home and keep yourself occupied until I can get my mom’s O.K. on spending the night,” Dylan said.

They head back home until they get on the intersection of Broadview and Windy Way. There, Dylan and Anthony head in different directions back to their homes. Anthony got home to his beautiful house and went inside to go ask his mom about spending the night and it was a yes. Dylan went to his house to see a different, more terrible, more horrible sight.

“Oh, my God…” Dylan said with his mouth open. The house was engulfed in flame. He immediately panicked to know where his mom was. Then he spotted her. She was in a blanket trembling in a terrified matter. He ran over to her and she opened her arms to hug him.

“What happened?” Dylan asked almost in tears.

“I… I was in the kitchen and I accidentally bumped into the cabinet that your bowl was sitting on. The bowl fell off into my arms and I managed to catch it. But then I bumped into the stove in the progress and turned it on. Right above the burner I turned on was a towel that was sitting next to the rack of paper towels. It caused a chain reaction and before I knew it, the house was swallowed in flames so I rushed over to the neighbor’s houses and told them to get outside because it might catch their homes on fire as well. We all got outside to see the fire department showing up. They managed to get your guitar out without a scratch, but everything else was lost,” his mom explained.

“And to think that I was gone the whole time! Darn it! For all I know I could have helped you put it out!” Dylan hollered at himself, “Well, Dylan was planning for me to stay over so maybe we could try to stay at his house until we get situated.”

“Okay…” his mom sighed.

“Ding, Dong!” Anthony’s doorbell rang.

“What is your mom doing here dude? Is there a problem?” Anthony asked.

Dylan pointed to a big smoke cloud in the sky right above his house and Anthony froze still in shock.

“Oh my God, do you guys need a place to stay?” Anthony asked.

“Can we stay here?” Dylan asked in a whimper.

“I probably don’t even have to ask my mom about this one.”

Anthony explains the situation to his mom and shows her the smoke cloud. His mom then leads the family over to the guest bedroom where there are two beds. They sleep soundly through the night and wake up in the morning to the sound of a doorbell ringing.

“Who’s there?” Anthony asks while opening the door.

“Is Martha and Dylan here?” the man asks.

“Yes, actually, let me call them up here, DYLAN AND MARTHA!” he yelled to them.

“What do you…? Dad?” Dylan said shocked as he came across the hall, “What are you doing here dad?”

“I heard on the news about the house fire and I wanted to lend you guys this to show you I still care.” He said with all of his condolences.

“TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!” Dylan screamed.

“Really?” his mom asked.

“Look for yourself!” Dylan yelped.

“Wow! Thank-you so much Dave!” his mom yelped, “I thought all you cared about was alcohol, but it looks like I am wrong!”

“I also would like to say that I’m quitting alcohol,” he said.

“Really! Wow! I don’t know what to say!” she yelped.

“I think I do,” he said bent down.

“Martha, will you marry me?” he proposed and opened up a jewel studded box with a beautiful sapphire inside of it. He always knew that she loved sapphires better than any other jewel.

“YES!” she screamed with joy.

With those words, one of Dylan’s saddest weeks ever, had become one of his happiest. The rest of the year, Anthony’s family and Dave had helped Dylan and Martha get back up on their feet. They managed to buy a new house that went for sale that was right across the street from Anthony’s. They regained their wealth and thanked Anthony’s family with a $2,000 check. It was like a whole new family, a whole new family of friends.

The Les Paul that Dylan had, he gave back to his dad, encouraging him to start playing again, and he did. He almost became better than Dylan, until Dylan’s birthday came and they got him his very own Fender Mustang 3 amp and a Les Paul of his own.

 

Author's Note

I hope you like it because it took me a while to complete.

Reviews

[Max]

ya also you say he gave it up, and you probably should specify who, same paragraph

[SWS Agent Ham]

I realized the mistakes so im gunna re-upload.

[Max]

i think it was very good. i think there is an error in the second paragraph. i think that you had alot of good details, but that trailed off at the end a little. i also noticed how much it related to yoour life, i mean with the divorce and everything, and playing guitar. also loved paco bell, lol