I Call It Luck

Six: Azra

I'm a very complicated person.

People think I'm calm and collected when really I'm just paralyzed by fear.

People can look at me and feel afraid. I guess I'm intimidating.

I think I make myself big because I often feel so very small.

And despite the fact that I know all I wear is a mask, I often slip into the delusion that I am my act.

Sunday. The 8th of October.

The day the illusion shattered.

I woke to the suffocating press of smoke in my lungs.

I woke too late.

The walls were slowly vanishing into the flames. My eyes stung, tears dripping, evaporating before they even hit the ground. Everything was a tornado of red and orange and yellow.

And I always thought I'd be that one badass.

The one who jumps out the window and brushes her hair out of her face, completely unscathed other than a sick slash across her arm.

But no.

I was the girl who stumbled and fell.

Whose mind was so used to the marathon it wasn't ready for a sprint.

Who could act all she wanted, but really, she didn't know what she was doing.

And the memory of it hurt. It squeezed and clenched and suffocated. And no matter how many times the wall is built, it falls. My walls will always fall.

When I woke to the fire, there was only panic in my mind. I didnt look for Ivory. I told myself I didn't have time.

Yet I had time to put on my glasses.

And I had time to grab my phone and my wallet and a pair of shoes.

All the while promising myself that if I died, I deserved to.

All the while praying to God.

God, who I hadn't even believed in until then.

A 4th story window was not a window to jump from. And the door was ablaze by now.

Screw it.

I ran to the window, threw it open, and climbed the fire escape down to the third story, but that was as far as I could go. The rest of it was melted from the fire dancing up and down the rungs.

I jumped.

Not a badass who jumped out of a window.

But a girl who let go of a ladder.

And then flashing red and blue merged with orange and red and yellow. I was pushed into an ambulance, all the while searching for the breath to insist I was fine.

Azra Khan was always fine.

~

The second degree burns hurt.

Not being able to breathe sucked.

Knowing I was forever scarred was, well, painful.

But worse than all that, was the fact that I knew the truth.

I cared only for myself.

Only for myself and my own safety.

Doctors say I was lucky to survive.

But maybe I would have been better off dead.

Ivory was out cold. The smoke inhalation had been too much for her. The doctors told me that's the kind of difference one minute makes.

I sat on my hospital bed, the ash and soot had turned the white sheets gray. She looked kind of peaceful lying there, in the bed next to me.

She also looked kind of dead.

She wouldnt have looked like that if Id helped her get out. Or maybe wed both look like that. Or maybe wed both look even worse. I guess I would never know.

"Oh my god, I came right away!"

I didn't even bother to turn my head towards the voice. Alana ran to me, snaring me in her embrace.

"Good to see you," I rasped.

"You're supposed to hug me back. Rude as always," Alana chided.

"Ahh, my bad," I muttered, raising an arm in an attempt to hug back.

"Oh just stop," she sighed. "What happened?"

"There was a fire."

"No shit. I mean, what happened?"

"We got caught in a fire."

"Azra, your sense of humor is too dry."

"It got kind of dehydrated given the circumstances. I almost got burnt alive so I'd appreciate if you could ease up on the roasting." I snickered a little.

"Azra-"

"I'm going to need to ask the doctor for more ointment for those burns, like damn Alana."

"Azra-"

"Yes?"

"What happened to you?"

"2nd degree burns along my left arm and minor smoke inhalation."

"And Ivory?"

"Ivory will be fine too. Some medical stuff. All I understand is that she should wake up by this evening at the latest. Thankfully her burns should all heal."

"Oh good. The boys are worried about you two."

I fell backwards onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling was easier than looking at anything else. "Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?"

"I mean why should they be worried. Or thinking about us at all. They only met us yesterday."

"And that's why they care. You do realize what's close to me is close to Jimin and therefore close to them."

"But how much do they really care?"

"They want to see you tomorrow."

"Because they feel obligated. Because like you just said, you're dating Jimin."

"Why can't you just accept that people worry over you?" she demanded, clearly angry.

"I'm just a little skeptical."

"Fine, well maybe when they come later you can finally see that not everyone is as cold as you." She stood and stormed toward the door.

"Alana," I called after her.

"What?" she practically spit.

"I dont think its physically possible for me to be cold right now."

She glared at me, as if trying to bore into my very core before marching off.

I stared at the ceiling, and despite the situation and the circumstances, despite the fact that one of my friends was in a hospital bed and the other was pissed at me, I smiled.

There was something so utterly satisfying about feeling like everything couldn't get any worse.