searching for a fallen star

Chapter 8: Let it burn

A/N: So guys, I know haven't updated for some time now - for two reasons actually:

1) I can only write properly when what I'm writing is 'meaningful' to me (if that makes any sense at all), and this story was beginning to lose its meaning. 

2) This chapter requires research, research, research, which means time - and I've been hella busy. 

Anyhoo, because I can only know so much from the internet and I haven't had the time to do much research anyway, I apologise in advance for any inaccuracies or wrong information that may be present below. 

To the few people who actually read this story - hope you enjoy this update and thank you for reading :)

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I have always hated fire - hated how it could look so innocently small one minute, and become so monstrously unforgiving the next.

It dances before us like life itself, taunting us with its radiant colours, waiting till we've grown complacent and familiar to its touch…

Then it strikes.

No mercy, no survivors.

*** *** ***

It's morning, and when I glance out the nearest window, still weary from sleeping in the waiting room all night, there are white clouds sprawled across the blue sky and the first spots of sunlight bouncing on tree ferns, and somewhere nearby, cheerful chirping fills the air. 

It looks like a normal Saturday, and it almost feels like a normal Saturday. But there's a red sign reading 'Emergency' to my left, and cold white walls everywhere, and I have to remind myself that this is nowhere close to a normal Saturday.

Normal Saturdays do not involve me sitting here in the waiting room, biting my nails, waiting for the ER door to open, waiting for a nurse or doctor to come out and give me some goddamn updates on Oliver's condition. 

Me who have only really known Oliver for a total of two days.

And to think that I'm the closest thing to 'family' he seems to have. 

There is something about hospitals that has always put me off, but here I am anyway because I know I have to be here for Oliver - hell, someone has to be here for him. 

Upon arrival, a nurse Elizabeth had given me news on his situation - trapped in a house fire, suffering from smoke inhalation and severe burns along his arms and on his face.

In critical condition.

Elizabeth comes out now and walks towards me, heels clicking loud and sharp on the white hospital tiles. "Anna?"

I nod, my throat dry. "How is he?" 

"Mr Penn is currently in stable condition. He's very lucky to have survived after inhaling such large quantities of smoke." She gives me a tight smile, as I let out a sigh of relief.

"He's in Room 160. You can go see him now."

*** *** ***

There is a fire within every one of us, and if you don't learn to control that fire, it will control you instead.

You either destroy that fire or it will destroy you. 

*** *** ***

He is sleeping. His eyelids are fluttered close, his forehead scrunched up as if he's having a nightmare he cannot seem to wake from. 

A respirator covers his mouth. His breaths are shallow and staggered, and every now and then, he seems to stir from his sleep, only to grimace in pain, before collapsing back to unconsciousness.  

Red, swollen burns are patched across his face and along his arms, and I know he's in great pain. What makes it worse is knowing that there's nothing, nothing at all, that I can do to even remotely ease this pain.

I lean back into the chair beside his bed, and for the first time, notice a 'get well' card on the table. I find myself frowning. Has he had another visitor before me?

Who?

Before I realise what I'm doing, I'm opening up the card.

'Strike one, buddy - we burn, you burn with us.'

I slam the card shut, heart pounding in my ears and suddenly I'm struggling to find my next breath. Strike one? That sounds like a warning to me - scratch that, it sounds like a fucking siren blaring in my ears. And... Burn? I feel my heart miss a beat. This person... is responsible for that house fire Oliver was trapped in?

I sink back in my seat, my mind whirling. Who could the writer of this goddamn card be? Who in their right mind would set their "buddy's" house on fire? Did someone have a grudge against Oliver? 

I don't even know a bloody thing about Oliver. It's like a part of my mind remembers him, but then, there's the rest of my mind just refusing to unlock these memories. 

And I find myself asking the one question that I've asked myself over and over again: who on earth is Oliver Penn? 

My eyes flicker to the 'get well' card, and I realise two things - one, I need to find the answer to that question soon and very soon; and two, I will never be able to look at a 'get well' card in the same way ever again.

There's a knock at the door, and being the jumpy person I am, I leap to my feet, eyes wide and alert. Only when I realise that it's Elizabeth do I feel my body relax.

"I brought you some food." She says. "Tuna sandwich, yoghurt and a bottle of water, from our hospital cafeteria."

I stare at her, unable to fully register her considerate gesture. "Thanks." I finally manage.

She smiles warmly. "No problem. Just thought you could do with some food."

She places the food tray on the table. "Oh, a 'get well' card? How very sweet of you to stay here with him and get him a card as well!" 

I attempt to smile, but am pretty sure that I'm failing miserably at the task. "No one else's been here?"

She shook her head. "None at all. It's only been you, darl."

Then how did the card get here? Did someone sneak it in?

I thank Elizabeth again for the food, before she exits and quietly closes the door of Room 160 behind her. 

I'm just about to dig into the tuna sandwich when there's another knock on the door.

"Elizabeth?"

No response. I place the sandwich back down, grab my chair as a weapon and prepare myself for the worst. 

The door creaks open.

What the -?

I barely register the dull clatter as I let go of the chair.

"Mum?"