Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Sometimes I wished I could be Flame for a day, simply to understand what the world revealed itself to him. And to measure how different it was to the way it was revealed to me. I wished I could understand how the flames in his blood made him feel. How it managed to wear him down, minute by minute, until his only reprieve was to cut his skin and feel his blood spill.
I bit my lip when it began to tremble. I refused to shed anymore tears. I had to be strong for us both. I could not predict what would greet me when Flame opened his eyes. I had no idea if he would know me. I had no means of knowing if internal flames would be scalding his flesh, forcing him to fight to be free of them. Whatever happened, I would be here and fight beside him.
Flame inhaled deeply. I tensed, but I let myself relax when he exhaled, still in a deep sleep. My heart raced slightly at this false alarm. I held Flame’s hand and brought his fingers to my lips, kissing each in turn. I had once asked Rider what he believed was wrong with Flame. Why Flame saw the world in a different light. Being raised in The Order, anyone who was different or did not toe the line of Prophet David vanished from everyday life. To this day, I was unsure where most people had been taken. There were mysteries in my previous life that I knew to which I would never find the answer. But Rider surprised me, he had an answer regarding Flame.
Rider told me it was purely his observation. However, when I pushed, he explained to me why Flame saw the world the way he did, why certain actions of his were amplified where others were not. He explained why Flame could not maintain eye contact with people. Rider told me it was a rare occurrence that Flame could hold my gaze. Because I am his and he is mine, I thought. Our love transcended ailments and pre-existing conditions. When Rider concluded his explanation, I was confident he was correct in his assessment.
With Flame’s history of abuse, things were of course more complicated. But to me, this was Flame—the veritable love of my life. I did not want him to change. I adored him just the way he was… with one exception—I wanted him to break free from the shackles he was bound by. By the flames, snakes, the myriad horrors of his past, his poppa and his mama. This current episode I knew mainly stemmed from the memory of Isaiah.
I also knew that if Flame did not forgive himself for his baby brother’s death, he would keep falling. He would keep breaking… and he would never be free. It was time he breathed easier. It was time he liberated himself from the prison in which he was incarcerated.
I stared at the shadows from the fire as they danced on our bedroom walls. I imagined how a free Flame would behave. I thought of our child, laughing and running through the woods. And I saw Flame, also playing, running after them, his arms free from fresh scars, as he scooped her or him into his embrace and held our child to his chest. I saw our child smiling up at their papa, pure love in their eyes.
My breathing hitched as I imagined Flame kissing our child on the forehead as he spoke of his undying love. That she or he was the light of his life. I felt a tear run down my cheek. I quickly wiped away the tear and it broke my dream. But I would not forget. I would not let the hope for that life, for that Flame, to be erased from my mind. I knew, together, we could help him, we just needed to find our way. The path to that goal was blurred, overgrown with weeds and spiked branches. But we would walk forward, clearing each obstruction, piece by piece, until we could scramble through.
It was worth it.
It was necessary.
Suddenly, Flame’s hand twitched. I glanced down. His finger moved again. I quickly removed my hand from his, as a soft groan slipped from his mouth. My heart seemed to stop beating as his eyes began to flutter open. He no longer had the IV. I knew Flame would fall into a mad panic if he woke a needle in him. He would visualize himself thrust into the past when he had been admitted into hospital and tied to the bed. I wanted him to be calm and free from any unnecessary triggers when he finally opened his eyes.
Flame took a deep breath, his shoulders in sync with his inhale. I felt my hands trembling, but I did not move my head from the pillow. I stayed exactly where I was. Even if he did not know me, I knew he would not hurt me. Not Flame. Not me, his Maddie. Even lost in the tornado that was his mind, I knew he would detect the light I brought, and bring me no harm.