The Fire

"No Bash!"

'What am I doing? Why did I do this?' Bash thought to himself as he opened his eyes.

A raging fire engulfed the large room. Smoke filled the air making it hard to see.

"Bash!" A woman's voice rang out, just barely above the roaring sound of the fire. A woman laid in the ground clutching her unconscious cat. Her eyes looked up at Bash, holding up a ceiling beam on his shoulders. It caught fire rapidly.

"Run!" Bash barked out loudly, his voice piercing the sound of the fire.

The woman hesitated for a moment but took off out of the door and outside. "Bash is still inside " she shouted to the firemen as she was taken to a nearby ambulance. As she struggled to look back , the doorway she fled from was now consumed by the fire.

"Get back! It's getting bigger!" A fireman shouted as the fire grew larger.

Inside Bash was stuck holding up the ceiling beam, being the only thing keeping the house up. The fire is now spreading up the beam.

Flames whipped and bit his arms, back, legs. Almost like rabid snakes hungry for a meal.

The smoke in the air was heavy and filled Bash's lungs.

"I guess this is a good way to die," he said with a small laugh. His legs shaking from the weight. His shoulders and hands burning from the fire. "Just gotta let go…" he whispered in a raspy voice.

As he closed his eyes and tried to let go, just let the ceiling crush him. "Good bye" he whispered as he let out a breath. Seconds went by, his eyes shot open. "Why am I still here?" He asked himself. The roaring of the fire was gone, though the fire itself was still very much there. Someone stood in front of him, it was him. At least a version of him. "What?" Bash asked himself as he looked at the other him.

The other Bash would looked at Bash squatting the ceiling beam. Reaching out he would grab the front of Bash's shirt. "What are you doing? Get your sh*t together. Your not dying here" better Bash spoke.

Bash's eyes widened, "what? This is all I ever wanted… to be the hero… to die" he whispered out.

Better Bash raised a hand and slapped him across the face. "That's not what you want. You just keep telling yourself that's what you want. You're lost" he said.

Bash would look at the better version of himself. Seeing happiness, a strong will, a hero. "I can't. I can't keep moving forward. I want to give up" he groaned as his legs bent more from the growing weight.

Better Bash would lean down, "you're a coward. Face the darkness that's inside. You'd rather fight everyone else's demons but your own. Easier to help others and push down your own feelings. What about you? What do you want?"

Bash was running out of breath. The smoke acting like a rope around his neck. The lack of air making his eyes blurry. Tears start to run down his face. "I… I want to live"

"Louder"

"I … want… to… live!" Bash screamed out. Breathing the smoky air into his lungs as he started to lift the beam. "I want to live, I want to be alive!" He shouted as he dropped the beam from his back.

Burn marks all along his arms and back. Burns across his face merging with the ones on his neck. Looking around he could only see smoke. A small light shining.

He would charge at it. Reaching out for it. His vision blurred more and more. As he grabbed the light he would feel something give way. The wall, after being weekend from the Flames.

Bursting out from the side of the house as it caved in. Standing in the yard, smoking.

"Ill survive … I'll stay alive" he muttered as several people rushed to him. EMTs rushing him into an ambulance and off to a hospital.