The Waiting Game

I watched in horror as the jacked lighter plummeted towards my oversized grey hoody lying on the hot tarmac. I ran screaming, no sound escaping my parched throat. My feet pounded on the ground, closer and closer. Three more steps and I’d be there, three more steps and I’d save it, save him.

Just as it seemed that I’d make it, the burning fire made contact with the hairspray doused cotton and it erupted in a woosh of flames.  

A led weight seemed to crush onto my heart as I watched the curl of smoke winding its way into the sky. All I could think was ‘this can’t be happening’. I looked around at the jeering faces of the surrounding crowd, a sea of aesthetically pleasing human beings with animal like souls. They laughed at my desperation, feeding on it like they monsters they are.

I fell to my knees, ignoring the burning scrape of the roughened tarmac. My hands flailed out in front of me, frantically trying to quieten the flames which roared to life in the open air.

I patted the molten heat, smacking it with all the energy I had, screaming like a banshee. I cursed the people who did this to me, destroying the only piece of him I had left.

Suddenly a strong grip yanked me away from the burning material, now just a desperate pile of ashes lying on the blackened ground.

I struggled against the impending force, kicking and flailing. Throwing all my weight against the restriction.

“Calm Down” Repeated the soothing voice in my ear, over and over again.

Eventually my body slackened, all of my energy draining out of me. I collapsed to the floor, the hands lowering me to the ground.

Only then did my senses seem to come back to life. The putrid smell of dyeing embers invaded my nostrils and the chirping of birds was starkly different to my sombre mood.