Fire Burning

Airport

Needless to say, I never fell asleep.

My mind wouldn’t stop racing, thoughts tangling into knots that pulled tighter every time I blinked. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a fist, slow and painful, and my stomach had been flipping for hours. I half expected to throw up. My sheets felt too hot, my limbs too heavy. The more I tried to calm myself, the more awake I felt.

"Mare? You awake?" I whispered to my left.

Maredith shifted under the blankets. She turned toward me, voice low and tired. "Yeah. Couldn't sleep either. You okay?"

"Not really," I admitted.

We both stared up at the ceiling.

It was probably the only part of my room I had ever put effort into. My little gallery.

Photography used to be my thing. My mom always said I had an eye for it, that I could catch moments other people didn’t see. I didn’t really do it anymore. Not since she died.

But the photos stayed. I couldn’t take them down.

Every picture I’d ever taken was stuck up there with thumbtacks or taped edges. Some were crooked, some were out of focus. But they were mine. A few had Mare in them—actually, most did. She was always the star. From the one where we were ten with chocolate frosting smeared on our noses, to a candid of her laughing so hard her eyes disappeared.

I smiled at them, then frowned.

"Mare?"

"Yeah, Em?"

"What about our birthday? I don’t want to do it without you."

She sat up, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. "We’ll figure it out. We always do. Maybe a video call? Or I could come visit. Nothing has to change unless we let it."

I nodded, sitting up slowly. "Okay. I’ll hold you to that."

She stood and walked to my dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats and a white cropped shirt. It hugged her perfectly, bringing out the color in her eyes.

I watched her for a second. She was like this glowing, confident presence. Everything about her felt secure. Effortless. And me? I felt like I was made of broken glass held together with tape.

"Alright, Mare. I'm going," I muttered, peeling myself from the bed.

My legs were stiff. My body ached with exhaustion I hadn’t earned. I crossed to the bathroom, flipping on the light. One of the bulbs above the mirror was out. I sighed and opened the hall closet, replacing it without thinking.

I stared at myself.

Blank expression. Eyes rimmed red from not crying. Just tired. Always tired. I hated the way my face was shaped, hated how much I looked like my mom. Maybe that’s why my dad wanted me gone—besides the money.

I stepped into the shower, letting the water beat down over my head. It was the first peaceful thing I’d felt all night. I stood there too long, face tilted into the stream, letting it wash the noise away. I knew today was going to be long. I needed to start it clean.

---

"Em, you ready to go?" Mare called, poking her head into the bathroom.

I was kneeling on my bed, carefully taking photos down from the ceiling. I'd decided to split them—half for me, half for her. It felt like a fair trade.

"Yeah," I said, handing her a stack. "These are yours. So you don’t forget about me."

She rolled her eyes and hugged me. "Like I could ever forget your awkward little face. Come on, bags are already in the car."