The flames snickered up higher into the sky. The little girl stood there for a moment, surrounded. Burning books, pictures, furniture, drawings, toys, memories. She didn’t entirely remember how this came to be. But she knew that she had this feeling, that she wanted it to; and that it was her still holding the box full of matches. Staring into the dancing spirals of flames and ash, she forgot what it was that she was supposed to do. Frozen into place as if she was only but a statue.
Then it slapped her, literally. Looking up, an imaginary friend stood over her. This Tall, thin, ghostly silhouette, mouth-less, held her cherished stuffed bunny toy. She grabbed it gently after dropping the matches, feeling parts of its now scorched fur. Of the color pink, the bunny was filled with secrets and missing its own left eye. Holding the bunny at her side, she grabbed her friend’s hand, guiding him and herself out to the exit where the sirens were already wailing.
Walking out into an early morning, she saw fire trucks, police and ambulance. Working hard at their jobs; shocked to see her. But the only thing she noticed was his hand, along with the rest of him, fading into the sunlight. She raised her hand at the sky, like their very own goodbye. A man in red and yellow swooped her up in his arms and ran from her collapsing home straight to medical, sitting her on the end for attention. A woman scanned her for injuries and spoke words of unknown. The little girl looked straight at the woman with an expressionless face.
“I did it.” Then she smiled and giggled, looking at her stuffed bunny, lifting it to her face and hugging it like a very cheerful child. The woman, speechless.
The flames snickered up higher into the sky. The little girl stood there for a moment, surrounded. Burning books, pictures, furniture, drawings, toys, memories. She didn’t entirely remember how this came to be. But she knew that she had this feeling, that she wanted it to; and that it was her still holding the box full of matches. Staring into the dancing spirals of flames and ash, she forgot what it was that she was supposed to do. Frozen into place as if she was only but a statue.
Then it slapped her, literally. Looking up, an imaginary friend stood over her. This Tall, thin, ghostly silhouette, mouth-less, held her cherished stuffed bunny toy. She grabbed it gently after dropping the matches, feeling parts of its now scorched fur. Of the color pink, the bunny was filled with secrets and missing its own left eye.
By Rashell Flescher