I See Fire

Am I losing my mind?

Am I losing myself?

How long until it ends?

The pain, the suffering?

Can it just stop??!

Please.

"Mr. Lucas. Can you not pay attention for one second?!"

"I- I'm sorry sir I just got carried away for a second," I replied quite suddenly, trying to show I cared a little bit.

No one thought I cared in school and I didn't, but if I didn't give a little more during school hours I would have to attend summer school going in with my terrible grades. Having almost failed almost all of my science classes through all of grade school and freshman year made this year's class very important. Attending the college that I always wished to make it to would be impossible with Bs and Cs in science.

Learning to pay attention to what was happening around me was difficult. It was very easy for me to get distracted by the smallest things, the invisible mice I'd watch play all class after getting no sleep or the thought of the building we were in. I had just learned about the old mall that got burned to ashes when I was just a baby. The owner's name was still engraved in one of the walls as a good memory of what we had. I had to learn to ignore it. I had to learn to drag myself away from self-pity for one second. One goddamn second!

"Lucas, are you doing alright? You seem a little pale and confused, should I call the nurse for you?"

"No thank you sir. I'm sure I'll do okay. Thank you though," I said trying to get him off of my tail as I've been doing the whole year.

Walking home in the cold, frozen afternoon air was a monumental task for a 15-year-old like I was. Looking back at it, it was for the best that I did walk. Every pellet of snow or frigid rain fell for a reason.

The drunk and poisoning attitude of my father hurt me with every last word that spilled out of his mouth, making me hurt more than anything else in the world. On top of having to be with him in the old broken house he rented to raise me in. I couldn't imagine having to feel more regret being alive than I already did when he reminded me of how much of a mistake I was.

I'd decided that there was nothing better to do on a wet, chilly october afternoon than to jog home, so I took the long way. I cut through a little trail that my family and I had walked on Halloween night every year into town or other special occasions where they wanted more "family time". I dashed through the trail into the nearest Dunkin' Donuts to pick up a coffee.

That coffee was the only bit of energy I could get into my body that day. I was slightly addicted to pot after trying it a couple times with my friends. I loved the way it was an easy cheap way to get a buzz in the day, but nothing got me a sweet high like an iced coffee. The sweet pumpkin flavor of a coffee that I could have every day into February was the biggest thing lived for.

I ran one block and straight out of town until I got to the run-down cabin I called home. My dad usually had a list of groceries for me to pick up but not that day. That day, my dad needed me home right away. Fridays it was always like that. Time passed slowly on fridays. There was always nothing to do because I had to show up home right after school, every week on that day. I never knew why, but I always had a suspicion it was because of my dad's drug deals.

Having that be our main source of income into the house hurt. If I had to tell people what my dad did for a living, I would always say that he was a firefighter or a police officer, because it felt really ironic in a funny way. No one could know what he really did, or I would be in trouble since seeing drugs like that was extremely illegal. I was always terrified of our house burning down from the pot fumes he loved to produce, but it was always intact when I arrived. On the other hand, sometimes I couldn't help but to think the sweet smell of gasoline all over this fragile house would make my day.