Tell Me a Story | ✓

Ignite

"I'll be right back."

I nod, a smile lingering on my face after the story of his trip to Disney world over winter vacation. Watching as he walks off to the ice chests and kegs off to the side of the cabin, a shiver rushes up and down my spine when he glances back over his shoulder and gives me a dazzling smile. Nervous and undeniably flattered, I awkwardly grab my arm to stop myself from shaking and smile back, lifting my hand in a semi-wave.

When he's already halfway to his destination I sigh, breaking my view of him and looking around at the rest of the bonfire party, wondering subconsciously how long it is 'till midnight. The flames of the bonfire catch my attention, and I find myself wandering over towards it, mesmerized by its abstract color against the cool, brisk night.

Cain and I had already sat in one of the chairs maybe an hour or two ago, but then it was time to give the chairs to someone else for a turn to take in its warmth. After that we had gotten so caught up in exchanging stories that we didn't even realize we were standing for an hour until he'd announced it after checking his watch habitually.

A small wind blows past me and my body shakes, chill bumps raising my skin. Biting my lip, I snap out of my haze and step away from the warm haven, gazing at the scene around me. Girls in a circle laughing obnoxiously, red solo cups in hand, gawking at the circle of attractive guys standing two yards away from them; a game of freeze tag toward the shore, shirts versus skin; druggies surrounding the campfire, singing to songs on the radio in various volumes.

I grin, rubbing my arms in hope of warmth. I search for Cain, checking to see if he's okay, when I see him laughing with a few of his friends, listening to one of their stories with admirable concentration. But then he turns his head and matches my gaze, smiling at me once again and not failing to make me warm again. To make me happy.

I turn away then, nervous that he saw my reaction, and find myself walking to the dock.  The wood creaks beneath my feet and the water on either side trembles. Looking out into the ocean, I see, suddenly, how small we really are; how insignificant compared to the rest of the world - the rest of the universe. My body shakes, but this time, it's not from the cold.

My arm tingles and I grasp it, trailing my fingers up and down it soothingly. Now's not the time.

I think back at the happiness I felt not ten seconds before, at the sight of Cain checking on me, how carefree I felt when talking to him....

But he doesn't like you, my thoughts remind me. He can't like me. The tingling in my arm gets stronger and my head pounds. He can't.

But why not? my subconscious wonders. I'm young; I'm allowed to be happy.

But he wouldn't understand.

Understand what?

The pain I had been through. The pain I put on myself all those years ago; the pain I put on others. I pull my sleeves up, suddenly hot in this cool weather, not caring of who sees my arm. I need to breathe. I need to think.

I sit down, suddenly needing to be in one place, and cross my legs under me, staring at my reflection in the ice cold water. But a straight line distracts me. A straight line on my arm. A vertical one. One that I had inflicted on myself just two years ago today.

I shiver, trailing my fingers over the scar. But that's not me anymore.

But even though it's been two years, my demons are still here. They still whisper to me thoughts that drive me insane; thoughts that caused my scar. But the demon is no longer me; I'm better off without it reminding me of my insecurities.

I sigh and put my head in my hands, wondering how I got here - alive, breathing, and happy. I am happy, right? I think back to Cain again, of his smile, of his laugh, of how comfortable we are talking to each other. A smile curves me lips. Yeah, I'm happy.

"What are you smiling about?"

I jump, caught completely off guard, and Cain laughs, ruffling my hair and taking a seat beside me on the creaking dock. I bump my shoulder against his, making him laugh.

"No, really, what were you smiling about?" he asks, looking at me with his warm brown eyes.

I open my mouth, but what comes out isn't what I planned: "Life."

His eyebrows notch, and he nods, as if understanding. "Life."

I sigh, frustrated with my poor communication skills. "No, I mean... ah, well, life is... hard."

"And that makes you happy," he states, trying to get the facts down, but I just shake my head.

"It makes me strong." And then it all seems to click for me. I am strong, no matter what the demon tells me. I'm strong for still breathing. I'm strong for surviving every day of my life.

"Does it make me strong?" he asks, bumping my shoulder playfully, and I nod, giving him an emphatic smile.

"Definitely." And then he takes my hand, intertwining our fingers, and my insides are inflamed as if he started a fire inside me. This is happiness. I am happy.

But he can't understand.

Frowning, I remember that my sleeves are still pulled up and I look at him and he looks at me, and I know that the demon is wrong this time. He already does understand. I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, and I lean into him, and he rests his head on mine. And, together, we stare out at the neverending ocean, quietly counting down to midnight and creating small ghosts in the powerless chill of the night.