The bright lights seeped through his eyelids as he struggled into wakefulness, groaning slightly. Joshua sat up, suddenly, stricken and confused. Where was he? What had happened? What was going on?
It hit him then, suddenly, what had happened. He bolted to his feet, running forward to soon, his mind racing, and stumbling slightly, but running forward.
Was he too late?
He ran desperately, tears falling from his eyes at what could have happened, but he brushed them furiously away. There were two possibilities, he would run into his friend's arms, and sob in relief. Or...
Or...
He looked up suddenly, stopping dead still in his tracks. What was that in the sky...? Was it...?
No.
Smoke.
He let out a yell, racing towards the town centre, and was met with his worst fears. No. No, please no.
He screamed, a pure cry of pain, running faster, towards the crowd, pushing his way through. It was him. Samuel.
He was fully prepared to run into the fire to be with him, crying out, but people caught on his arm and pulled him back, grabbing him desperately.
"No!" He screamed out, attracting his attention, and Samuel looked towards him through the flames. "Sam!" Joshua fought and struggled against the people who held him back, calling out desperately.
Tears fell down his face, and he tugged again, crying out desperately, "Sam! Please, no! Sam!"
The burning boy looked towards him, and if you looked closely, you could see a tear stream down his face. He seemed to regain his strength, batting against the ropes that held him.
"Josh!" He screamed out, reaching out his hand towards him, a final, vain attempt.
Joshua struggled, desperately trying to reach for his hand. But his face fell, and he stayed still as he watched helplessly as his friend let his hand fall to his side, and threw his head back, screaming, and was engulfed in the flames.
"No, no Sam!" He cried out, sobbing, and he struggled once more against the people holding him back, before falling down to his knees, helpless against it. He gave up, sobbing into his palms, as the people let him go as a sign of respect. He let out a muffled scream. He couldn't stand anymore; he could do nothing but cry.
Cry for his fallen friend.
YOU ARE READING
Impossible
Historia Corta'You know why people like to do these things? Why violence feels so good? They're searching for something. A response. To get a kick out of it, you need a reaction. Screams of fear, and pain. To fight back. To struggle and resist. Take that away and...
