Fire.
Smoke.
Pain.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. I choked on the ash that flew through the air. I felt 100 tons of guilt on my shoulders.
It's all my fault. I don't know how, but it is.
The flames were wrong. They weren't red or orange or yellow like normal fire was. They didn't produce light like normal fire did. No, this fire was different.
I felt the electric blue tongues lick my limbs, lighting up the nerves in my skin like a Christmas tree. If it weren't for the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the sheer determination to reach my uncle, I would've collapsed long before.
Somehow, I spotted him. I tried to run to him, tried to scream his name, tried to let him know I was coming, but my body failed me. I was suddenly frozen, unable to do anything but watch as the unnatural fire engulfed my dear Uncle Ethan.
"Andrew! It's only a nightmare!"
My eyes snapped open, unveiling my real surroundings: a plain and slightly messy living room with the pull-out couch in bed mode. I looked over in the direction of the voice that had brought me back to reality.
Alex. Of course. I had forgotten that he had come over to my house, spending the night. He was my best and only friend, always there for me when I needed him. He was a sturdy rock that helped me stay grounded in reality when I got anxious. It was only about a month after the fire, so I needed something to ground me now more than ever.
Through the darkness, I saw his blue-grey eyes staring back at me, full of concern—the kind you only feel when someone you really care about is suffering. A slight smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I panted, still reeling from reliving the horrific memories.
I nodded. "Thanks, Alex." Words couldn't describe how grateful I was that the other was there.
"I figured it was a nightmare. You were shaking, clinging to your pillow, and you called out to your uncle," he responded, the worry in his eyes leeching into his voice a tad. "Anyway, that's what I'm here for, right?"
I let the slight smile take hold. "Yeah. Again, thank you."
He nodded, laying back down. "I'm always here for you, bro."
I drifted off to sleep again, hoping by for a better one, but the dreams had other plans, and Alex couldn't stop them.
YOU ARE READING
Transition (Rewrite)
General FictionAndrew never had a choice in his life. He didn't choose to be born female, he didn't choose to come out to his family, and he didn't choose to be given superpowers. Becoming a superhero, in his mind, was a way to take control of his life, a way to f...
