Imaginarium

Real Life Is Totally Cliché

I was chatting with Amaterasu for the first time when I was typing this, so this is for her!

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There are fiery flames all over. Every direction I look, I see these hungry flames devouring everything in their path. Everywhere I look, all I see is the orange hue of the flames covering every inch of my way.

I am frantic. I am beyond frantic, actually.  Who wouldn't be? The whole building is on fire and I could hear screams coming from different directions. Staircases are crumbling to pieces. Bits of ceiling started coming down.

I feel panic welling up inside myself. Being trapped in a building with no exit or entrance is not good for people who have spent every second of their lives fussing over safety.

I look to the right and see an exit, but no. A crumbling heap of burning wood falls in my path.

I look to the left and see a window. A chance! I race to the window and try to yank it open, but I can't touch it! It's too hot. The cool metal of the window is now seething to the touch.

I almost scream with frustration. Why can't life just be easy for once?

But I know it never will be. Not as long as I am stuck in this building, which also happens to be burning to the ground.

My new-found fright gives me strength and I punch my wrist through the glass, ignoring the pain that shoots through my arm. What is pain compared to burning to death?

I break off the remaining shards of glass and finally find an exit stands right before my eyes. I quickly haul myself  through the open window and finally make it to the small piece of cement jutting out below it.

Oh shoot! I forgot about the elevation!

I ignore the fact that I am scared of heights and balance myself on the narrow ledge of cement. I take a second to ensure my balance and look around.

No trees. No adjacent buildings.

I look around more, frantic. Then I spot the fire engine with its lengthening ladder with the box at the top. I scream at them and wave, still aware of the ground way down below. 

They see me. People start yelling and running around. My heart sings with joy.

But then - then it happens. I slip.

Just as I am rushing down to my death below, I grab the ledge. My fingers are sweaty and, most important of all, slipping off the ledge. I scream.

Hanging from a building and being scared of heights at the same time? Not so good!

I try my best to hang on, my knuckles white as paper and my heart racing like a Bugatti Veyron.

I'm too young to die!

I just hang on. My life slowly ebbing to a close as my fingers slowly loose their grip.

Then I plummet down, air rushing all around me. The world slows for a second or two and then I land on something hard.

Two fire rescuers crowd around me and I realise something very important:

I am alive!

At least a thousand miles away, maybe even in a whole different world, a family sits in front of a TV.

The young girl with her mother points at the TV, its screen showing a girl being rescued from a burning building and when she seems to die, the fire rescuers swoop in and rescue her.

"Mom, that is totally cliché!"