The Cure

XI

I don't remember coming home, more so getting in my bed.

I'm not undressed though, still in my break in clothes from my excursion with Griffin, and that makes me feel a little more comforted that my own two feet probably placed me where I am now. 

I wake up, feeling rather groggy and my throat a little itchy, that's when I remember.

The fire and smoke and screams and tears.

I bolt upright and dash out of my room and into the living room where I'm frustrated to find that Ofelia does not have the television on.

Instead she's drinking more of the poison and reading a book. Of all days!

I flip cushions over and topple a vase of flowers in my search for the remote before finding it underneath a magazine by the floor lamp.

I press the power button a bit too harshly and sigh impatiently waiting for the familiar one channel screen to appear.

It flares to life and I'm relieved to see a news reporter, our only one – embarrassingly – to appear and his steady always calm voice rings in our living room. I glance at Ofelia who suddenly looks concerned.

I roll my eyes, biting my tongue in an urge to ask her where she's been the last few hours and a day. 

"...the horrifying screams of onlookers waiting to see if their loved ones would come out alive. I'm Hudson Rogers reporting on the terrifying occurrence that happened only seven hours ago in factory square. Here is Sara reporting live at the scene."

The screen changes and I can see the factory behind a young woman, the flames gone but smoke thick around in the air.

Yellow police lines are everywhere and the gate is not only locked shut but guard by rows of officers preventing any entrance at all. 

"You can see the damage done by the explosion, the factory's north side almost completely destroyed. This morning at six twenty-seven witnesses saw chaos take over and watched helplessly as the cities largest and most populated building was nearly taken over."

"Taken over?" I say out loud, half to myself and half to Ofelia.

"Does she mean the fire?" I glance back briefly at Ofelia, long enough to see her shrug. 

"...all we know at this point," Sara continues, "is that control was lost in the factory and as such there ensued this calamity that may take weeks even months to recover from. Hudson?"

"What?" I scream.

"That's not all." Hudson reappears again and gives one last closing statement about the grief caused to families and financial difficulties of recovery - asking for donations, of course - before the power is cut and our screen goes fuzzy.

I stand there, staring into the abyss, before kicking at the already fallen vase and curse silently under my breath ("bloody fiends" mostly being the extent of it). 

"My, what was all that about."

Don't get worked up, I tell myself, even though Ofelia is being an absolute ninny.

"There was an explosion at the factory this morning. Half the building's gone."

"Really? What happened?"

"Obviously I don't know, and neither does the anyone else for that matter, considering how little information we were given by our 'trusty news reporters' just now."

"Maybe it's nothing too serious," Ofelia says returning to her book. 

No, nothing serious. Just because half the building's been blown to bits and no one's been evacuated doesn't mean anything serious has happened.