August 27, 2010

The Fireman

A kick splinters the door sending chunks of oak flying. Wearing yellow gear and carrying a red axe the hulking mass of flesh slashes the rest of the damaged door, lumbering his way into the house. Face hidden by a combination of the visor and thick black smoke, he continues forward battling the flicking flames and falling debris. I lay helpless next to the couch unable to speak while an invisible force squeezes the air from my lungs. Leaning down he checks for my pulse.

"I am getting you out of here. Do not worry you will be safe soon." from within the helmet his voice more alien than human reassuring.

As a mother would, he scoops me up and over his shoulder with ease and turns back toward the front entrance. The flaming roof falls missing us but blocking the way out. Taking a slight moment to re-examine the crumbling house the mystery man heads toward the living room window with a sense of urgency.

"If you can hear me cover your head!" without warning, like an all-star pitcher, my savior hurls the axe over head.

Shards of glass explode when the axe hits giving him an opening. Taking a deep breath he adjusts the grip around my waist before lunging through the broken window.

Phil, a male nurse, enters the small white room with nothing more than a bed and a middle-aged woman. Carrying a small tray of assorted drugs and a glass of water he stands next to the bed.

"Mrs. Warren wake up! Time for your medicine." the doctors think the medicine will help with the hallucinations.

According to them my yellow knight,the fireman, is nothing more than a psychotic break. For two months they have forced these pills down my throat but I'm more clever than they know.

Each night after the nurse leaves I spit out the pills and put them under my mattress. He will return for me soon and I will be ready. Soon they all will know the fireman is real.