Dr Sandy's blog: "Poetry"

Prologue

 Feeling uncomfortable, crouching by the side of a building, feeling the heat of the flames on her face. Rachel watches in horror and fascination, as she sees the flames leap and seem to have a life of their own. This fire is similar to the last 4 fires that she had witnessed. She feels the same sense of loss. She sees the same look of fatigue and exhaustion on the firemen’s faces while they put out the other blazes. She hears one of the firemen shout, “Need another line over here” or “Shit that was close”, as timbers of sparks and wood rain down on them. She wants this story bad. She wants it like she’s never wanted anything before in her life. She wants whoever is responsible for these fires to get caught. Unlike the arsonist who had killed a good friend of hers, when she was a child.

  Thinking back she remembers the screams coming from her friend’s house. She can still hear them to this day. She remembers the scream of the sirens in the distance. She remembers how the sky had lit up as if it were daytime, instead of the middle of the night. She can still feel how it felt to be a helpless little girl that knew with a feeling of sick dread, that there was nothing in the world she could do to save her friend Sam. She couldn’t rescue her friend. She didn’t know what to do to help her even if she could. The flame was unstoppable; the screams had filled her ears. The smell was that of sulfur and burned wood. It was the kind of smell that stays with a person for many days. Not just after the fire has been put out.

    Samantha was a pretty little girl, with beautiful cork screw curls, and huge brown eyes that seemed a bit large for her small cherub face. Her skin was a dusty brown color; she was so smart and had a lot of potential for a bright future. She was about to start the 2nd grade. She would have been in a different class than me, but that didn’t matter to me. She was still my friend.

  That night changed Rachel’s life and how she valued life. Sam’s dad had started the fire. He had not only killed my friend Sam but had also killed Sam’s mother. No one is sure what set her dad off that night. It had started as a slow burning fire, one that once it was full force it destroyed everything in its path, be it just wood, cloth or human lives. By the time the fire department got to the fire. The whole building was engulfed.  It took 5 hours to put the fire out.  When it was a smoking charred mess all that remained was blackened wood and the body of my friend Sam and her mom. It was thought that all had perished in the fire. But the father’s body was never found. It was said that he started the fire and just walked away. Now over 20 years later no one has seen him or ever heard what happened to him.

  Bringing her thoughts back to the present fire, Rachel watched the firemen control and put the fire out.  Hearing the voices of some of the firemen, saying “this one is like the others, arson.” they were also saying “luckily there were no victims inside.” For a fireman when there are no victims and just a burned building. It’s considered a good day.

  She’s thinking to herself at least this one turned out different than that one so many years ago One day this pyro will be caught with lot of luck and the good work of the fire investigator.

   Sliding her way up the wall, Rachel winces as she stands, feeling the pins and needles from being crouched in one spot. Pain shoot up her legs.  She looks around the corner of the building. She notices no one has spotted her. She walks away from the building and into the crowd that’s standing around watching the firemen mill about rolling up the hoses, axes and ladders. You can see a few still in their full turncoats and helmets. A few are still around the building putting out hot spots. You can hear the sizzle of the water as it hits the hot spot here and there, sounding like a snake that is about to attack you. You can still smell the arid smoke in the air.

      She starts walking briskly towards her Jeep Cherokee. Looking over her shoulder, Rachel gets the uneasy feeling she’s being watched. She shivers and walks faster, almost at a run. She opens her purse and nervously snags the key from the bottom. While trying to get the key in the driver’s side key hole she drops them, muffles a groan and bends and picks the keys up and slides the key in the hole. She opens the door, and slides into the driver’s seat. Cranks the car, and burns rubber trying to get away from the scene and to get her story to the paper before the presses roll.

  Rachel doesn’t see the dark shape in the shadows. The one that has watched her every move; the intense gaze, moving over her slim form like a lovers caress. The gaze, that can and does make a person’s skin crawl. The gaze, that if someone were looking in to their eyes, it would appear cold and dead, as if the person were staring into space. Instead of trying to memorize every inch of a person’s face and body. The one, that feels at home in the shadows.  The only one that truly knows who’s setting the fires. The one, that takes pleasure from setting the fires. The one that is obsessed not only with the fire but is also obsessed with Rachel, the one that will have her no matter what the cost, whether the cost is charred wood or human life. This person will have it all and having it all means having Rachel.