Read my story, tell me what you think.
For the Fire Chief
A short story by Jenna Myers, 9-30-05
The only thing the father left behind was a 25% chance of her inheriting sociopath behavior. Unaware of this, she was a very sociable person, with a loving mother and loving friends. The passing of her father wasn’t a mark she was willing to show. She was, however, weak; she had convinced herself and those around her otherwise during 17 years of good grades, attractiveness physically and personality-wise, volunteering, a mind for art and faith.
She blamed him for his death, the risk of harming her mother and herself and for the struggle that she and her mother were going to go through, she never had forgiven him. The dreams were almost unbearable. Flames, piercing her skin, so scolding it felt like she had fallen through thin ice on a lake. She felt and saw the cigarette fall from his fingers onto the couch, carelessly every night as if she were the couch. She saw her dad never wake again. She felt remorse for the others in the apartment complex for not changing the battery in the smoke alarm.
She was thankful in her dreams to her dad. Had he never been irresponsible, she may never have met Tony. She dreamt Tony Rexroadt was cradling her the whole time, carrying her to safety. His deep brown eyes were just as piercing as the fire. Tony was the newly appointed Fire Chief of station 149; the number on his uniform flashed it with every flicker of the blaze. The dreams were so vivid; she remembered the touch of his fingerprints putting the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth as he was telling her that her father didn’t make it. It was almost pointless now. She memorized the pitch in his voice that seemed to comfort the death and the pain of what felt like breathing through a straw.
A semester had passed and she had turned 18. Her mother was growing more troubled. Between filing bankruptcy and the death of her high school sweetheart, it became too much. She hadn’t realized her mother was slowly sinking into a dark pit that she would end up dying in. The past 15 years had been rocky and left a lot to admire, but her mom’s job as a successful school administrator came along with an image she had to uphold, that of a perfect family and life. The only thing the mother left behind was half a fifth of Jack Daniels, an antique revolver including one shell her great grandfather had given her, and a stain on the carpet in their new condo.
When she heard the shot, she woke up from her current fantasy about Tony and peered out of her room to find her mother’s drained blood on the walls they had planned to paint the next week, she called 911 and requested the fire department and an ambulance. Using this to her advantage, she left her mother lying on the carpet and went to change and put on light make up. When the fire department arrived, so did the police and ambulance, the ambulance left immediately after picking up the body and placing it in what seemed like a big black zip lock baggy.
She hadn’t seen Tony, and began to worry he wasn’t going to come. A policeman began to ask questions about what had happened and her opinions on things that happened. She politely gave him answers truthfully and asked to be left alone; she would go to the station later. Tony never came. Her grandmother from her mother’s side moved into the condo with her to help with rent and consoling.
She started cutting class, work and stole a 7.0 mega pixel camera from her digital photography class. During the times she was supposed to be at class, she would ride her bike in the neighborhood across the street from fire station 149 and would take pictures of Tony, anytime she saw him. Whether it was coming into work, playing basketball, or making a fire run in the truck, she took a picture of it. She began to fantasize about the pictures. Thinking her and Tony had a relationship; they were in love and were going to be married. Her grandmother had become worried, noticing she slept all the time and confronted her about her reclusive behavior. She insisted she had a heavy stress-load at school and there was nothing to it.
A few hang up phone calls were made before she worked up the nerve to talk to Tony on the phone. She had called the fire station and finally got a hold of him. “This is Tony.” She paused for a few seconds before she heard, “Hello?” “Hello, Tony? I just wanted to call and express my gratitude for helping save my life a few months ago. My father had left a cigarette burning when he fell asleep, and I’ve not called you to say thanks. I lived over off of Raymond and Main.” Tony sat back in his chair and pushed his hair back and said “Oh, right. Just doing my job, how are you doing?” She twirled the phone cord as she was thinking ‘He cares about me! He really cares!’ and worked up a sniffle while saying, “Well, my mother just passed away and it’s just really hard…you know, what I mean?” Tony’s eyes got a bit bigger as he leaned forward on his desk shuffling through his rolodex and said “Well, let me give you this number,” Her face lit up and said “If you’d like to get together sometime, that would be great!” Tony looked perplexed as he slowly said, “I’m giving you the number of a counselor that specializes in helping children who have los…” “I’M NOT A CHILD,” she screamed offensively. “I’m a woman.” Tony said without hesitance, “I’ve got to go, glad you’re okay.” Without a goodbye or I love you, he hung up the phone like she meant nothing to him.
The fantasies did not stop. She had decorated her room with the pictures of him and paintings of different things related to him. A few sketches and paintings with the numbers 149 on them, she burned wood in the shape of a fire hat, she painted flames as a border around her room. She was in love with Tony. She knew the only way to get his attention was to prove herself as a strong woman. Remind him of the first time they met. She thought if she only could kiss him this time, it would make him realize he loved her. She began to write a letter confessing all of her feelings to him. All of the things she had done to be surrounded by him. She mailed the letter the day before.
After calling the fire department checking to see if he was on duty and removing the batteries from the smoke alarms so her grandmother wouldn’t hear, she took a lighter, lit one of her grandmother’s cigarettes and set it under a curtain. Her grandmother was asleep in her bed, having no knowledge of her granddaughter’s plan. She watched as the flames began to blossom into bushes of demolition. Grabbing her best picture of him out of her bedroom first, she went in to wake her grandmother up in her windowless bedroom. The door slowly closed behind her, they had been meaning to get that fixed. She shook her grandmother, who was very reluctant to get up. She said “Grandma, there is a fire! Get up!” Finally, the grandmother smelled the burning and rose out of bed quickly, braced herself on her walker and headed for the door.
Smoke had began to poor in from the bottom of the door, she had not anticipated the fire to spread so quickly, she had tried to open the door, but the doorknob was too hot to get a hold of. She prayed that the fire department would be there any minute. She looked behind her to find her grandmother passed out on the ground from the smoke. She grabbed the comforter off of her grandmother’s bed and wedged it in between the door and the floor. It worked for the smoke, but started to incinerate from the fire as the door started having flames peek in and out of the sides. She started to become dizzy and fall to her knees; she heard sirens approaching the house. She tried as hard as her smoke-infested lungs could take to scream, “Tony,” just before she fell face first into the floor where she started to have her last fantasy of Tony, clutching his picture in her hand.
She imagined grave markers with her and Tony’s name engraved together as she began to feel the piercing of the fire on her back and heard an axe chopping down the door. She looked up, the fire was glowing in her eyes and the reflection of Tony just before the fire had sent her to an early death.
Theirs was the only condo to be damaged, after the fire was put out and reports were filled, Tony returned to the station and before taking a shower, he noticed a letter on his desk with no return address. He read it, all the way through, in disbelief.
For the Fire Chief
I realize you’re a busy man and couldn’t talk to me for very long on the day that I called. I’ve been in love with you ever since you saved my life. I fell in love with your fingertips caressing my face, your voice soothing my fears and your eyes reading my soul. The pictures that I take of you do not compare to being 10 inches from you, feeling your warm breath blowing against my pores. I know the only way to get our attention is romance. To remind you of the first time we met those few months ago. On that horrible night that turned out to be the best night of my life. That’s why I started the fire. I started it for us. I love you, Tony. You know where I live. I’ll be waiting for you, my savior. I just wanted to let you know.
Love always,
Harmony
As Tony slowly sat the letter down on the desk, he looked over to the left side of his desk and stared at it for a few seconds that seemed like a few minutes. Tony picked up a picture frame and a tear fell from his eye onto the picture. He picked up the phone and dialed a number and said “Honey, I love you more than anything in the world, I just wanted to let you know.”
The only thing Harmony left behind was a letter and fantasies of that according. In her mind she was with Tony, and the love she had was worth it.
A short story by Jenna Myers, 9-30-05
The only thing the father left behind was a 25% chance of her inheriting sociopath behavior. Unaware of this, she was a very sociable person, with a loving mother and loving friends. The passing of her father wasn’t a mark she was willing to show. She was, however, weak; she had convinced herself and those around her otherwise during 17 years of good grades, attractiveness physically and personality-wise, volunteering, a mind for art and faith.
She blamed him for his death, the risk of harming her mother and herself and for the struggle that she and her mother were going to go through, she never had forgiven him. The dreams were almost unbearable. Flames, piercing her skin, so scolding it felt like she had fallen through thin ice on a lake. She felt and saw the cigarette fall from his fingers onto the couch, carelessly every night as if she were the couch. She saw her dad never wake again. She felt remorse for the others in the apartment complex for not changing the battery in the smoke alarm.
She was thankful in her dreams to her dad. Had he never been irresponsible, she may never have met Tony. She dreamt Tony Rexroadt was cradling her the whole time, carrying her to safety. His deep brown eyes were just as piercing as the fire. Tony was the newly appointed Fire Chief of station 149; the number on his uniform flashed it with every flicker of the blaze. The dreams were so vivid; she remembered the touch of his fingerprints putting the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth as he was telling her that her father didn’t make it. It was almost pointless now. She memorized the pitch in his voice that seemed to comfort the death and the pain of what felt like breathing through a straw.
A semester had passed and she had turned 18. Her mother was growing more troubled. Between filing bankruptcy and the death of her high school sweetheart, it became too much. She hadn’t realized her mother was slowly sinking into a dark pit that she would end up dying in. The past 15 years had been rocky and left a lot to admire, but her mom’s job as a successful school administrator came along with an image she had to uphold, that of a perfect family and life. The only thing the mother left behind was half a fifth of Jack Daniels, an antique revolver including one shell her great grandfather had given her, and a stain on the carpet in their new condo.
When she heard the shot, she woke up from her current fantasy about Tony and peered out of her room to find her mother’s drained blood on the walls they had planned to paint the next week, she called 911 and requested the fire department and an ambulance. Using this to her advantage, she left her mother lying on the carpet and went to change and put on light make up. When the fire department arrived, so did the police and ambulance, the ambulance left immediately after picking up the body and placing it in what seemed like a big black zip lock baggy.
She hadn’t seen Tony, and began to worry he wasn’t going to come. A policeman began to ask questions about what had happened and her opinions on things that happened. She politely gave him answers truthfully and asked to be left alone; she would go to the station later. Tony never came. Her grandmother from her mother’s side moved into the condo with her to help with rent and consoling.
She started cutting class, work and stole a 7.0 mega pixel camera from her digital photography class. During the times she was supposed to be at class, she would ride her bike in the neighborhood across the street from fire station 149 and would take pictures of Tony, anytime she saw him. Whether it was coming into work, playing basketball, or making a fire run in the truck, she took a picture of it. She began to fantasize about the pictures. Thinking her and Tony had a relationship; they were in love and were going to be married. Her grandmother had become worried, noticing she slept all the time and confronted her about her reclusive behavior. She insisted she had a heavy stress-load at school and there was nothing to it.
A few hang up phone calls were made before she worked up the nerve to talk to Tony on the phone. She had called the fire station and finally got a hold of him. “This is Tony.” She paused for a few seconds before she heard, “Hello?” “Hello, Tony? I just wanted to call and express my gratitude for helping save my life a few months ago. My father had left a cigarette burning when he fell asleep, and I’ve not called you to say thanks. I lived over off of Raymond and Main.” Tony sat back in his chair and pushed his hair back and said “Oh, right. Just doing my job, how are you doing?” She twirled the phone cord as she was thinking ‘He cares about me! He really cares!’ and worked up a sniffle while saying, “Well, my mother just passed away and it’s just really hard…you know, what I mean?” Tony’s eyes got a bit bigger as he leaned forward on his desk shuffling through his rolodex and said “Well, let me give you this number,” Her face lit up and said “If you’d like to get together sometime, that would be great!” Tony looked perplexed as he slowly said, “I’m giving you the number of a counselor that specializes in helping children who have los…” “I’M NOT A CHILD,” she screamed offensively. “I’m a woman.” Tony said without hesitance, “I’ve got to go, glad you’re okay.” Without a goodbye or I love you, he hung up the phone like she meant nothing to him.
The fantasies did not stop. She had decorated her room with the pictures of him and paintings of different things related to him. A few sketches and paintings with the numbers 149 on them, she burned wood in the shape of a fire hat, she painted flames as a border around her room. She was in love with Tony. She knew the only way to get his attention was to prove herself as a strong woman. Remind him of the first time they met. She thought if she only could kiss him this time, it would make him realize he loved her. She began to write a letter confessing all of her feelings to him. All of the things she had done to be surrounded by him. She mailed the letter the day before.
After calling the fire department checking to see if he was on duty and removing the batteries from the smoke alarms so her grandmother wouldn’t hear, she took a lighter, lit one of her grandmother’s cigarettes and set it under a curtain. Her grandmother was asleep in her bed, having no knowledge of her granddaughter’s plan. She watched as the flames began to blossom into bushes of demolition. Grabbing her best picture of him out of her bedroom first, she went in to wake her grandmother up in her windowless bedroom. The door slowly closed behind her, they had been meaning to get that fixed. She shook her grandmother, who was very reluctant to get up. She said “Grandma, there is a fire! Get up!” Finally, the grandmother smelled the burning and rose out of bed quickly, braced herself on her walker and headed for the door.
Smoke had began to poor in from the bottom of the door, she had not anticipated the fire to spread so quickly, she had tried to open the door, but the doorknob was too hot to get a hold of. She prayed that the fire department would be there any minute. She looked behind her to find her grandmother passed out on the ground from the smoke. She grabbed the comforter off of her grandmother’s bed and wedged it in between the door and the floor. It worked for the smoke, but started to incinerate from the fire as the door started having flames peek in and out of the sides. She started to become dizzy and fall to her knees; she heard sirens approaching the house. She tried as hard as her smoke-infested lungs could take to scream, “Tony,” just before she fell face first into the floor where she started to have her last fantasy of Tony, clutching his picture in her hand.
She imagined grave markers with her and Tony’s name engraved together as she began to feel the piercing of the fire on her back and heard an axe chopping down the door. She looked up, the fire was glowing in her eyes and the reflection of Tony just before the fire had sent her to an early death.
Theirs was the only condo to be damaged, after the fire was put out and reports were filled, Tony returned to the station and before taking a shower, he noticed a letter on his desk with no return address. He read it, all the way through, in disbelief.
For the Fire Chief
I realize you’re a busy man and couldn’t talk to me for very long on the day that I called. I’ve been in love with you ever since you saved my life. I fell in love with your fingertips caressing my face, your voice soothing my fears and your eyes reading my soul. The pictures that I take of you do not compare to being 10 inches from you, feeling your warm breath blowing against my pores. I know the only way to get our attention is romance. To remind you of the first time we met those few months ago. On that horrible night that turned out to be the best night of my life. That’s why I started the fire. I started it for us. I love you, Tony. You know where I live. I’ll be waiting for you, my savior. I just wanted to let you know.
Love always,
Harmony
As Tony slowly sat the letter down on the desk, he looked over to the left side of his desk and stared at it for a few seconds that seemed like a few minutes. Tony picked up a picture frame and a tear fell from his eye onto the picture. He picked up the phone and dialed a number and said “Honey, I love you more than anything in the world, I just wanted to let you know.”
The only thing Harmony left behind was a letter and fantasies of that according. In her mind she was with Tony, and the love she had was worth it.