Burned Alive

Prologue

He sat up, trying to scream for help, his eyes searching for someone or anyone who would help him.

But when he sat up, he realized his voice was silent, his body filled with pain, he was in a strange bed, and he was only seeing out of one eye.

Panic shot through him like a bullet and he closed his eyes, his hands gripping the hospital bedsheets as tight as he could, and he took deep breathes hoping that when he would open his eyes it would be different. It would be alright. He would be back home.

Fire. That's all he saw. Flames. He screamed. Hell.

He was horrified when the bandages came off. He couldn't believe it was his face, his body. His brown eyes that he inherited from his mother were different now, he stared for the longest time when he realized that his good eye was still the same but his blind eye was almost white. He wanted to hide. He wanted to scream, but nothing would come out, another thing the doctor had told him about. He would most likely never speak again.

He stayed in that hospital for several months, just healing. He had never felt so alone and abandoned before, always having had someone there for him before. His mother, his father, his brother.

While alone in the hospital, he found himself questioning things. Why did his family have to die? Why did he have to survive, only to be scarred for life?

But all his thinking came to a standstill when a familiar face walked into his hospital room, a forced smile on his face. He would learn the truth of the day his family died, thanks to this man. He would also learn the truth of himself.

He wasn't who he thought he was, his family wasn't who he thought they were, nothing was as he believed it to be.

He didn't sleep that night, but he laid awake, angry.

And he was angry the next day, and the next, and the next. It was then that he found himself somewhere he never dreamed he would be.

Something he never dreamed he would be.