The Kaosophile
Your Friendly Neighbourhood Archon
Charlotte woke to heat beating on her face, and she opened her eyes to look at the clock. 3:00 AM? Can't be right. She looked over at her window and, sure enough, the black curtains of night framed the pale moon. Looking at her door, she realized where the heat was coming from. Dark smoke billowed from beneath her door and was rapidly filling the room. Charlotte dashed out of bed, and guided by muscle memory of her family's countless fire drills, grabbed a bunch of clothes and blocked the edges of the door to stem the flow of smoke. She unlatched her window and slid it open. The wailing of sirens in this distance was drowned out by the wailing of her sister. Popping the screen out of her window, she vaulted out of her room and sprinted alongside her house, over to Alice's window. The little girl was standing, frozen with terror as she stared at her door, which was quickly becoming engulfed in flames. Charlotte banged on the window, but the toddler was screaming too loud to hear it. The sirens didn't seem to be getting any closer. Looking around for some way to get inside, Charlotte spotted her father's shed in the orange glow from the backyard. Bolting past the blaze that was closing her return path, she yanked the shed door open and grabbed a sledgehammer. Running headlong through the fire back to the side of the house, she swung the hammer, smashing her sister's window. Clearing the glass with her forearm, and coughing in the fumes, Charlotte called for Alice, and Alice was broken out of her trance. Unsteadily climbing over the window sill, Alice fell out, into her sister's arms. The sirens were finally nearing, and Charlotte carried her sister out front, setting her down before collapsing on the lawn. Her parents rushed over, but Charlotte could only think about the searing pain in her leg, the warm blood dripping down her arm, and the increasing effort it took to breathe.
Fire Marshall Jones showed up at the hospital to inform Charlotte's parents that the fire was extinguished, and that they were currently looking in to the cause, but Leo just sat in his chair, unable to think about anything but Charlotte. He absentmindedly nodded and feigned interest in whatever wild fantasy Alice was babbling about, desperately holding back from exploding at the girl who was too young to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Mr. Pearson was being treated for minor burns on his arm, and Mrs. Pearson was currently in the ICU with her daughter, so Leo was left to keep Alice out of trouble. Mrs. Pearson came into the waiting room, eyes bloodshot from smoke or tears, and took Alice to go visit Mr. Pearson, telling the nurse to take Leo to Charlotte's room.
Following the young man down the winding halls to the burn ward, Leo felt like this was just a dream, he was hearing and seeing things that just couldn't happen. He knew things were happening, but he wasn't feeling them, and all the sounds were distorted and distant, like he was underwater. After the longest minute in history, Leo was shown a room with two beds, one of them empty, and the other holding Charlotte Pearson. The little LCD showed Charlotte's steady, but steadily weakening pulse. Leo sat in the seat next to the bed and held Charlotte's bandaged hand. “Cherry...” he said, tears welling up in his eyes as he brushed his hand over her hair.
The nurse shook Leo awake by the shoulder, “Visiting hours are over, but I can get you a pillow and blanket if you want to sleep in the waiting room,” the man said with a certain pain that said he had slept in those chairs before, bracing for the moment when he knew bad news would come. The man didn't look too much older than Leo, maybe twenty-two, but his eyes looked like they had seen a hundred years of loss. He wasn't like some of the nurses who plastered on their fake smiles and falsely sympathetic voices, only making you feel worse about your situation, This man's curly, sandy blonde hair was slightly disheveled, and the faint hints of dark circles under his dark brown eyes showed that he hadn't gotten a decent sleep in a long while.
“Thanks, um... Vincent,” Leo said, reading off the man's name tag. “I think I'd like to stay as close as possible, in case...” he trailed off, his throat refusing to let the last words out.
“Vince, please. Have you eaten at all today, kid? I can order you a meal if you want.”
“No, I'm not hungry, and it's Leo.”
“I know what you mean... Come on, I'll walk you back,” Vince said, straightening up. He was tall when he stood up straight, but as he walked Leo to the waiting room, he slouched, as if some intense weight were constantly resting on his shoulders. “Tell Peggy if you need anything,” Vince said, gesturing to the old woman behind the receptionist's desk, who was currently snoring softly with an issue of Cosmopolitan covering her face. “If you can wake her up, that is. She usually watches her recorded soap operas around nine, so she'll be up in a bit.” he walked behind the desk and grabbed a pillow and blanket, tossing them to Leo. “Anything else before I go?” Vince asked, but Leo just shook his head. Vince shrugged and went down one of the halls to some unknown destination.
* * *
Fire Marshall Jones showed up at the hospital to inform Charlotte's parents that the fire was extinguished, and that they were currently looking in to the cause, but Leo just sat in his chair, unable to think about anything but Charlotte. He absentmindedly nodded and feigned interest in whatever wild fantasy Alice was babbling about, desperately holding back from exploding at the girl who was too young to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Mr. Pearson was being treated for minor burns on his arm, and Mrs. Pearson was currently in the ICU with her daughter, so Leo was left to keep Alice out of trouble. Mrs. Pearson came into the waiting room, eyes bloodshot from smoke or tears, and took Alice to go visit Mr. Pearson, telling the nurse to take Leo to Charlotte's room.
Following the young man down the winding halls to the burn ward, Leo felt like this was just a dream, he was hearing and seeing things that just couldn't happen. He knew things were happening, but he wasn't feeling them, and all the sounds were distorted and distant, like he was underwater. After the longest minute in history, Leo was shown a room with two beds, one of them empty, and the other holding Charlotte Pearson. The little LCD showed Charlotte's steady, but steadily weakening pulse. Leo sat in the seat next to the bed and held Charlotte's bandaged hand. “Cherry...” he said, tears welling up in his eyes as he brushed his hand over her hair.
* * *
The nurse shook Leo awake by the shoulder, “Visiting hours are over, but I can get you a pillow and blanket if you want to sleep in the waiting room,” the man said with a certain pain that said he had slept in those chairs before, bracing for the moment when he knew bad news would come. The man didn't look too much older than Leo, maybe twenty-two, but his eyes looked like they had seen a hundred years of loss. He wasn't like some of the nurses who plastered on their fake smiles and falsely sympathetic voices, only making you feel worse about your situation, This man's curly, sandy blonde hair was slightly disheveled, and the faint hints of dark circles under his dark brown eyes showed that he hadn't gotten a decent sleep in a long while.
“Thanks, um... Vincent,” Leo said, reading off the man's name tag. “I think I'd like to stay as close as possible, in case...” he trailed off, his throat refusing to let the last words out.
“Vince, please. Have you eaten at all today, kid? I can order you a meal if you want.”
“No, I'm not hungry, and it's Leo.”
“I know what you mean... Come on, I'll walk you back,” Vince said, straightening up. He was tall when he stood up straight, but as he walked Leo to the waiting room, he slouched, as if some intense weight were constantly resting on his shoulders. “Tell Peggy if you need anything,” Vince said, gesturing to the old woman behind the receptionist's desk, who was currently snoring softly with an issue of Cosmopolitan covering her face. “If you can wake her up, that is. She usually watches her recorded soap operas around nine, so she'll be up in a bit.” he walked behind the desk and grabbed a pillow and blanket, tossing them to Leo. “Anything else before I go?” Vince asked, but Leo just shook his head. Vince shrugged and went down one of the halls to some unknown destination.
