Claire Bear (M.A.D)

Chapter Twenty Three

Michael's P.O.V

I began to run as I spotted the fire brigade outside our home, my heart beating out of my chest.

Just as I arrived at the front door I saw a fireman carrying someone.

A girl.

Oh God.

She lay unmoving in his arms as he ran out of the building and then slowed to a walk towards the ambulance.

Her hair fell llimply over his arm and her feet dangled lifelessly as he carried her bridal-style.

A paramedic ran towards him and grabbed the charred girl's dangling wrist.

She shook her head and sighed.

Please no.

It took me a few moments to will myself to go over there but I had to check. 

I ran over, my heart pounding in my ears.

I tapped the fireman with the girl on his shoulder. He turned.

There she lay, her beautiful face covered in ash and burned in places. She was all greys and whites and I went numb.

"Clare." I whispered. "No. Please." My knees hit the ground and I just collapsed.

"Please no. No. Why?" Tears started falling uncontrollably. This couldn't be happening. 

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

I layed there, my head on the ground and my knees tucked up to my chest for ages, soaking everything in my little ball with salty tears.

Then there was a hand on my shoulder. 

Three people crouched beside me.

"Michael?" The familiar Welsh accent was right next to me. His hand was on my back. "Michael what's happened? Are you okay? We had a phone-" I looked up at him through my tears. "Oh shit." He whispered and sat down on the concrete with a painful bump. He didn't seem to register the pain.

"Shit." I heard George mutter as two more butts hit the hard round.

We all sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Tears were still streaming down my face and I felt numb except for the pain in my heart.

"Hey, does this belong to one of you?" A burly fireman's deep voice awakened me from my trance for a moment as I looked at the item he was holding.

It was a guitar case.

I forgot.

I broke again.

The man just put it down and left and I watched the blur of his heavy black boots as they walked away.

I would never forgive myself for this.

I could have been there.

Me and my stupid surprises.

I could have saved her.

Why did I have to leave?

Why didn't I stay?

Why did I have to go out and get her a stupid surprise guitar.

Even in its case I couldn't stand to look at it. I could feel its gaze on me, the engraved writing "Claire & Michael" practically laughing at me through the case.

Why me?