3. Aftermath

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Taylor

    Two EMT's have been trying to get me to talk for the past five minutes, both unsuccessfully. I simply stare at my apartment building burning across the street. The fire was so sudden with such a strange spread pattern- my neighbor even commented on that.

"Christ-" He mumbled a string of swear words I refuse to even think after finally stopping to catch his breath in the middle of our street. "That... We... god that was weird."

"Weird?" I raised an eyebrow and he raised his hand. Blisters were already forming on the fingers.

"It moved around you."

I stopped dead with something I still can't describe stirring in my stomach. Human beings are not element benders. I was just extremely lucky- at least that's what I've been trying to convince myself of for eleven minutes.

The vodka should have ensured it would engulf me in seconds, yet here I am. I play the images back in my head knowing I'll never be free of him or the smell of his burning flesh. Damnit.

I look up just in time to see a junior NYC police officer wheel a few body bags out. I wonder if one is him, but push the thought away. I deal with traumatic things better by not talking about them despite how bad everyone says that is for your mental health. For me, pretending it doesn't exist is what's saved me countless times.

After all- if it doesn't exist there's nothing for me to have flashbacks or panic attacks over.

"Ma'm? Ma'm would you mind listing the most valuable material items you lost so we can list them in the report......." Someone somewhere asks one of my neighbors. A blanket of fog seems to cover the processing centers of my brain. The shorter EMT sighs.

Material items.....

"FUCK!!" I suddenly scream, punching the metal vehicle. The EMT's jump back. I run my fingers through my hair, ignoring the ache in and blood dripping from my right hand. I hadn't even thought about that: My only possessions are now on me or in my locker at work. I have next to nothing and the thousand dollars in my bank account won't begin to cover replacement costs in this city.

Cautiously, like they expect me to take my frustration out on them next, they reach for my hand. I feel nothing as they work on it, too distracted by the still smoking building.

Did I do this?

Of course you did, dumbass.

Maybe I knocked a candle over. Yes, that must be it.

An ear- piercing screech nearly forces my eyes to the direction of the noise. Seconds later my eyes land on a familiar car, belonging to the one person in this city who hates public transportation enough to take it places daily. I smile.

She ducks under police tape, ignoring warnings from officers and firefighters alike. Her eyes dart around, searching for me- and when she does see me she makes a beeline.

"Honey- oh my god what happened are you okay? Kaden?" She throws her arms around me before I have a chance to open my mouth and I don't mind. She is my one true friend in this world; the one person I want here right now. Still, I pause.

She does not impatiently tap her foot like I imagine some of my college friends would have. She just stands there blinking, waiting on me to continue. She blows hair away from her face a few times.

"He...."

The fog finally lifts and I slam into my emotions like a brick wall. I do not cry often or in front of people- I was taught from an early age that both of the above are bad things, but the tears start rolling and I can't stop them. It is a silent cry, so at least I've managed to keep some of my dignity.

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