Story: Was it a Fire?
IMPORTANT NOTICE: UN-RATED!!!
FICTIONAL, HORROR, MENTAL DISORDER,
M.C’s Stories~
TITLE: Was it a Fire?
11/23/2018 by, MCtheGir
WARNING ⚠️ TWISTED ENDING 👻 ~
Story…
As of lately, there have been some changes in the way I react to my surroundings. I learned long ago that if no one else was reacting to a fire in a room, then most likely, there was no fire in the room. With such knowledge, I have learned to either ignore and more frequently put out the invisible fire. I believed these things were purely my imagination and thus I could control such visions of insanity.
Many times there has been a fire on the sofa, yet people still flopped down upon it to watch television. I could physically feel the flames and even get red marks on my body if I got too close. No one else that I knew of had the same physical reaction. I never really told anyone about this, at least not in a way they would take seriously. It was always a joke to others and I treated it as such to myself. Making my skin brake out in hives just by putting my arm over a sofa cusian was always a simple magic trick that no one else could manage. I would stand in a hallway or door way where I saw rain and would announce that I’d next make the red marks disappear before their very eyes. It worked. No one could prove I was using make up as a prop simply because I didn’t need any make up to do such a trick.
Fast forwarding to the now, two weeks ago… My brother came home, visiting from his vacation time from the military. He didn’t have his own bedroom because that was given to our youngest sister. We all watched the Sunday football game and ate chili. I didn’t dare sit on the sofa. Most of my family were bored and tired of my same old usual magic trick. To prevent anything seeming strange, I would avoid sitting up on the sofa all together. It came time for us all to go to bed, my brother laid down. He was sleeping on the sofa, while everyone else was in bed. I tried to put out the fire, but this time, I couldn’t make it go away. The fire continued to burn. I firmly believe that I was hallucinating, after all, I had always been told I have an over reactivate imagination.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The fire detectors seemed to be working but we’re not alarming or flashing. The smoke detectors we’re silent. The CO monitors we’re normal. The heat detectors appeared to be functional. All of them showed that everything was fine and had normal read outs as usual. I wish I hadn’t ignored my own senses.
The next morning, we all ate breakfast together, except for my brother who was still asleep. None of us bothered him because we knew he had been working hard. Come later that afternoon, our dad got annoyed and yelled at my brother to get up and take out the trash. He had skipped breakfast and lunch, dad wasn’t going to let him sleep threw dinner too. My brother didn’t wake up. Dad shook brothers shoulder and rolled him over to force him awake. It wasn’t my brother on the sofa, just a burnt corpse. I didn’t react as usual and staid out loud to my brother that he should just get up and not sleeping through dinner because there would be no dessert or yumminess later. My mom and dad looked at me. My little sister began to cry. My mom held my sister while my dad fully ignored me. With in the hour, police showed up. I honestly believed I was imagining the fire.
According to reports, there never was a fire. Yet, my brother was burnt beyond recognition. The sofa had no scorch marks. The blanket was was clean and still smelled of fabric softener. The buttons on his shirt had been melted and yet, the fabric of his clothes were completely intact. No evidence of being redressed. No evidence of being moved or other harm. He simply died burning to death in his sleep.
I still think to myself, “I could have saved him,” not sure how; it’s been about only two weeks in this mental ward of prison, yet I don’t recall ever being given evidence of my “guilty” plea out of regret. I could be free. I’m not sure why I’m in here.
As of lately, there have been some changes in the way I react to my surroundings. Anytime I see a fire, I now point it put and yell for help. The staff don’t see the fire and just try to calm me down. The doctor tends to up my meds with each day I have an episode. I’m now at the maximum dosage. I’m not sure why I’m in here.
Today I finally saw my brother. He is alive and doing just fine. He refuses to look at me. My dad won’t talk to me. My mom has never visited me. My little sister still talks to me. She says I’m “her” invisible friend. She’s now in this psych ward, locked up with me. No one can see me. My brother asked her if she really thinks I’m here or not. I don’t know why I’m here. Only my little sister talks to me. No one can see me. Our brother just told her to remember that her older sister died on the night of the Superbowl. I only have one sister. Who could he be talking about? I thought he was the one who died. Was it a fire?
