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Choices
Contributed by TheSpiritx
on Saturday, 15th July 2006 @ 12:47:39 PM AEST
Topic:
short
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I peek out from a trashcan in the crude, biting dark of the night. Left and right, lights flashing, visual echoes on the walls. I glance up for a moment at the stars, spotting Orion. I wave at him as he watches my generosity from above. I look at the house again as a wall collapses, whispering, “Yes… you chose a great house this time.”
I had picked up the gasoline can and splashed the wall – oh that wood will burn – and, in my excitement, I managed to get some on the roof. “This is gonna rock.” A nasty, cold wind picked up suddenly and I covered up the match, waiting to strike once the wind had settled. “Why is that damn ***** trying to stop us? *****in’ mother nature. Okay,” I said to the match as the wind stopped, “it’s your turn!”
I stuck my head around the corner – no cops. I struck the match, but my hands were shaking from anticipation. I took a deep breath, calmed down and tried again – a flame! I cradled this beautiful life-giver in the palm of my hand, protecting it from danger and enjoying its almost playful touch as it licked against my hand lightly.
I stopped and thought about the first time I lit up. It was… you know, like this voice there in my head and I was just thinking, “Hey I should set this building on fire… that’d be cool.” Well… I later found out that it was really the Fire talking to me! I didn’t know it then, of course… but it was talking to me. It wanted me to set it free! “Free me! Let me have this building! There’s nothing better than fire, you know,” it told me.
And here I was again at a new building in a new city, the fire talking to me – urging me to free it. I felt like some great liberator, you know? All Lincoln-style or something as I stood there with this tiny captive flame. I needed to give it life… let it grow. I gently tossed the match to the wall and it spread across the wall almost immediately… like when you drop a glass of water on the ground or something. It consumed every inch of the wood there in front of me.
I stepped back for a minute. “Beautiful. Be free!” I had nearly shouted. I was embraced by the warmth of the fire, grown and growing even more, enveloping the roof of the house. I figured it was probably starting to get inside the house, too. I didn’t want to leave, but I knew I had to… at least to be safe.
That first time… I remember it. I was living in a different place back then. I stayed and watched the fire – oh it was great. I loved the fire and it gave its love back to me in its warm touch. Well I didn’t know it, but the cops showed up. They arrested me. As I was being pushed into the car, I heard someone comment how it was lucky there wasn’t anyone there inside the place. I guess the lucky one was me… ‘cause I only spent a year in juvie… even if they told me I couldn’t have the fire. They didn’t know it… but I got the fire again when I got out and on probation.
And now again under the night sky I hurried across the road. I had planned it all out earlier this week… I’d light up and then hide out in a trashcan across the road so I could watch. What I didn’t know was that I wasn’t gonna be able to see anything because of the way it was all set up. Anyway, I was there in the trashcan with the lid covering it and I peeked out to see all the cops and firemen there. I lost hold of the trashcan lid because of my gloves and it crashed to the ground. The cop nearby turned and saw me duck down, I guess, cause he ran over and yanked me out, arresting me when he smelled the gas all over me.
I sat in the cell there. It was all just like on TV, you know? Where the guys come up to you and ask what you did. “Nothin’…” I said, “Just gave the warmth out to this family’s house, you know?” They didn’t really know, though. They didn’t get it because, really, the warmth… see, it’s like something powerful. It told me to burn these places and so I did because… you know, because it’s the Fire. Anyway, I got tired of talking to the other guys and sat on the corner of my bed. It was pretty late then… and a cold wind was blowing into the cell through the barred window and laughing at me with each new gust and howl.
“Hey, it’s time.” That voice. I looked around and nodded, grinning. “Hey… you know this is the right time. You’re such a generous person for that house… you should show them how generous you are!” I laughed. I knew it was time. I pulled a tiny book of matches, all but two used up, out of a small pocket at the knee of my pants that the cops didn’t catch. I knew it was time… and I was a generous person.
Copyright © TheSpiritx
... [2006-07-1512:47:39] (Date/Time posted on site)
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Re: Midnight Oil
(User Rating: 1) by Strawberry on Saturday, 29th July 2006 @ 07:14:20 AM AEST (User
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wow. that is the best story that i have read on this site. keep up the great work. |
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Re: Midnight Oil
(User Rating: 1) by Jacktripper on Monday, 31st July 2006 @ 02:14:39 PM AEST (User
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Inside the mind of a pyromaniac...Very interesting I liked the idea this could be a great comic story. The boy that cried fire? Nicely written.... |
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Re: Midnight Oil
(User Rating: 1) by Former_Member on Tuesday, 24th October 2006 @ 05:12:08 PM AEST (User
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I love this! I can relate to the deadly
fascination with fire. It's just so
beautiful and hard to resist. The dancing
flames call out. Just to fee the warmth
of a lit match is an amazing thing to
me. *sigh* I think I might light one now. lol
Good story. Love it.
~Ravon~ |
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