Recovery And Magic

1

Well, I really messed up now. Crap. Crap. Come on, do something. You've done it before. You can ruin my life when it's going fine, but when it's circling the drain you decide not to burn everything.

I was sitting in a cold plastic chair, the smell of smoke and fire wafting around me. The horrid scent slicing my nostrils as it slid in, making my stomach churn and stiffening my back. I hate that smell. I should be used to it. It's been around me all my life. But every time I get a whiff of ash or fire I get nauseous. I just want to throw up. At least then I cover that smell with something less disgusting

In front of me was a small table and the chubby officer that found me. He was sitting across from me with a beakish older woman. Both of them had dark suits, both had smiles that looked friendly. But I wonder what's behind that expression. Is one of them afraid of me and the other is holding back rage? Or are they hiding the same expression, waiting to leave the room to finally show it?

The chubby man leaned over as he polished up his smile. "Listen, we're not gonna hurt you. We just wanna know a few things."

I reverted my eyes to the brown walls of the small room and the faded green carpets with stains. Anywhere but their faces. Looking back at my hands they were trembling, stained with ash. At least it isn't singed skin or body parts. At this time at least. I could still feel the numbing buzz in the center of my palms. The feeling made my skin crawl. If I whack my wrist hard enough against the edge of the table maybe it'll be enough to pop them off. Or break the skin.

"Miss." The beak lady cut in, taking a step closer.

I scooted my chair away from her in response. She'll learn fast that things close to me will get burned.

I could hear a sigh escaping her mouth, the chubby man cleared his throat to break the uncomfortable air building between us.

"Look, we got eyewitnesses that saw you running out of the building when it caught on fire. We're not saying you caused it. We just wanna know if you saw anything."

Of course someone saw me. It's how I got here. Someone at the center saw me and the fire, called the police and brought me here. That's how it goes. Somebody has to watch while I sink deeper into my hole.

"Did anyone get hurt?" I croaked out.

I just wanted a place to rest. I've been walking since morning. I was so tired. I just wanted someplace warm to sleep in for once. That stupid center had nice chairs, it felt better than cement. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry.

"No." The beak lady squawked back. "Everyone got out with a couple of burns but that was about it."

The buzzing in my hands dulled. I let out some air that was building in the back of my lungs. No new blood was added to the fire. Good.

Just put a bullet through me.

"Um," I said softly. "Can I sleep here tonight? Please?"

I could feel the confused looks turn into judgment. Their eyes digging in as I kept my head to the ground. Should have expected that.

"Don't you live anywhere in town?" The chubby man spoke up. His voice getting heavier. It sounds like judgment.

People who burn their homes don't deserve one.

I shook my head. "No."

"Where's your parents?"

Which ones? The ones that died or the foster parents that sent me back after a week of living with them?

"I don't have any."

"What's your name?"

Only a matter of time till they see the massive report of "arson" next to my record. I kept quiet, lacing my fingers against each other as I stared at the ground. The silence between the chubby man and the beak lady was prickling against my ears.