The Boy Who Brought Me Back (Scömìche)(Completed)

Chapter 1

MITCH POV

I pull my hand back from the oven as I burn the tips of my fingers on the hot pan. After running my hand under cold water for a few seconds, I take the pan out with a mitt on. As I set the tray on the stovetop, I realize that my small kitchen is now overflowing with baked goods. Baking: my hobby, my distraction. The faint smell of smoke reminds me to turn off the oven and I whip around to press the button before the whole apartment goes up in flames. Unable to stand being in the kitchen any more, I move to my bedroom to change my clothes.

After putting on a fresh t-shirt and black skinny jeans, I head back into the living room to watch Spongebob. Rain sheets against the side of the rickety building and it creaks with each fresh wave. Thunder cracks and I nearly scream. I turn up the TV all the way to drown out the sound of the storm outside. Before long, a loud, long knock shakes my door.

"Turn it down, Mitch!" My neighbor, Mrs. Brown, an old, humorless woman, always complains that I have my TV too loud, but I ignore her and continue watching. After a little while, she goes away. At some point, I fall asleep on the couch with my feet up and Spongebob blasting, and I do not hear the sound of the fire alarm ringing through the building.

I wake up coughing, barely able to breath. Smoke stings my eyes and I can't see anything. The sound of Spongebob is taking over the small room and I frantically search for the remote to turn it off. Flames are engulfing my door, leaving me unable to escape from my eighth floor apartment. I put my foot through the TV screen and it goes quiet. All I can do is panic. Slowly, I collapse onto the floor, heaving. Every breath I take stings worse than the last and fear has taken over me completely as the flames begin to spread across my wooden floor, eating everything in their path. My vision gets spotty and I feel my head crash into the floor next to me just as several men break the door down and run over to me. The last thing I feel is glaring heat and hot flames touching my shirt before I pass out.

I resume half-consciousness in an ambulance. With each bump in the road, my chest burns as my shirt makes contact. A woman is standing next to me, but I do not recognize her. All I know is that I am in pain. I pass out again.

The faint sound of a heart monitor swims through my head. It takes a lot of work to open my eyes, but when I do, I see a hospital room around me. Before I can fully process my surroundings, I see a man sitting in the corner. He is watching me intently, worry evident in his features. For a few seconds, I stare back, trying to figure out if I can recognize him. When the room begins to tip and I get lightheaded, I close my eyes again. The sound of the heart monitor speeds up and I realize that my heart rate is increasing quickly. The door swings open and the sound of footsteps approaches me. When I open my eyes again, a different man is standing over me. He grabs a fistful of my shirt and leans close to me as he yanks my body roughly toward him. Fear engulfs me and I let out a short cry, which he smothers with his other hand. Before anything else can happen, the other man from the corner is next to him and pushes him away.

"Leave him alone!" he roars. Several nurses come in wide-eyed.

"What's going on in here?" one asks. The larger man, the one who grabbed me, shakes out of the younger man's grip and walks out after replying, "Nothing." The nurses leave again, and the smaller man says, "Are you okay, Mitch?" He takes my hand and I pull away from his touch. The heart monitor at my side is beeping quickly and loudly. "What's wrong?"

"Please don't touch me." I say quietly as he reaches for my hand again.

"Mitchie-"

"How do you know my name?" My voice is still small and I divert my gaze to my fidgeting hands.

"What do you mean? You told me your name, of course I know it."

"How do you know me if I don't know you?" I look up timidly as confusion takes over his face.