fuel for fire
A Submission from Cecilia Omri
I smelled cedar-wood burning. The fire crackled and popped while I lay motionless, completely enamored with the very thing that could destroy me. The flame was strong. Fiery red overtook the irises of my eyes. I knew I couldn’t stay here forever, though it was all I could have begged for. I reached out, touched the flames. I flinched, it burned but I couldn’t help but make it kiss my fingertips again. It danced in response, but I heard no music. There was nothing in the background, just darkness, silence, and that one single flame. How I got there, I don’t know, but I felt like leaving was not an option. The warmth drew me in like arms outreaching to take me in. I screamed.
“You can’t win! I won’t let you take me!” I screamed and yelled until my throat burned. I felt hot. Sweating, I shouted more. My blood boiled. Maybe it was just the burning from the flame, but I felt like my world was on fire. I didn’t want the fire anymore, I wanted to extinguish it. Why wouldn’t it leave? Why can’t I put it out? These questions branded my skin, or was it just soot and ash from the furnace I was about to submerge myself into.
I could feel myself slipping, falling deeper and deeper into the fire. My skin bubbled and popped, begging for mercy. I held on to brush and branches for dear life. I knew there was something more than the furnace, but what? What is beyond Hell? My questions went unanswered as I continued to struggle. I sweated and I shook. I felt withdrawal, but there were no drugs, no high, no euphoria. I craved something more but all I had left was the very thing that I knew would kill me one day.
Maybe one day I will win. Maybe one day, I’ll carve my name into the ashes and let the world know I made it. Maybe one day I’ll burn into a million pieces. I’ll be fuel. I am no longer water, I am gasoline.
– Cecilia Omri