//------------------------------// // Burn the Memories // Story: Flame // by RhetCon //------------------------------// Have you ever wondered how something so small and delicate and beautiful could be so catastrophic? Something that you can start with a strike and extinguish in a huff; something that burns beautifully when small, but deadly when large. It’s easy to anger, and loses its temper quickly, but the few seconds you can sit and watch it burn are majestic. Fire can cleanse as well as destroy. It’s a symbol of life, yet leaves death in its wake. Who’s to say a fire is good or bad? The one who wields? Or maybe the one who experiences it firsthand? Who is to say, indeed. Cleansing has always attracted those with a dark past. Those who are heartbroken with no chance of recovery. They wish to rid themselves of memories they’d rather keep locked away in their heart. These are the people who wish to flee from everything that pains them, into an emotionless void, where no pain can ever reach them. Octavia is one of these people. She awoke at a slow pace. She’d describe it as a fade into reality, in fact. She didn’t dream. For as long as she could remember, she’d always seen pitch black after the hours when she fell asleep. She wasn’t sure if she was to thank or curse this ability now. She wanted to dream of better times but wasn’t sure if she could force herself to. Slowly she slipped out of bed, reveling in the tickling of her bare legs against the fuzzy carpet. She still had the ability to enjoy some things. As she placed her bare feet on the cool wood of the floor, her toes writhed, sending the chilling feeling through her entire body. She walked across the small room she confined herself in and found herself in front of a mirror. Her normally elegant and straight gray hair was frizzy and unkempt. Her purplish eyes were weary and puffy. She didn’t want to do anything to her face. She had no one to keep up appearances for anymore. Prying herself away from her reflection, she looked over her own room. It’s neatness and bareness only served to make her eyes tired. She yearned for a change of pace and scenery. So, she slowly walked toward the door, grabbed the door handle, and twisted it, pulling it open to expose herself to the hallway beyond it. She walked past the door, leaving the barren room behind in favor for a narrow hallway. The floor was laid with wood similarly to her own room, but now it was littered with small sheets of paper—sheet music. She could almost see them tempt her to the room on her right. So, slowly, she complied with her own desire. Pushing open the door to the right felt like pushing aside a boulder. Still, she swallowed hard and did as she wanted, opening the door to the room. The boulder then resided in her throat, as she found it hard to breathe as she glanced at the room. If anyone else looked at it, they would think it was a pointless room, filled with nothing but building materials and pieces of musical equipment. But Octavia saw the true meaning in every piece. The large soundboard, the large panel of soundproof glass, the microphones. Their very own studio. They were even going to use real vinyl records as wall decorations. “Vinyl…” echoed Octavia. It made her heart ache like there was a rock slid right between it and the ribs. She closed the door fearing for the feeling’s persistence. She looked behind her at the opposite room. She shook her head and closed her eyes. If she couldn’t even look at their studio, she could not look in her room. She felt that she would have cried already if she had not run the well dry. She didn’t want this. These feelings made her heart ache; her body feel cold and empty. She didn’t want to have to feel this way. But, she had memories. And as long as she had those, she could never let it go. She pulled herself together and continued walking down the hallway. Soon, the walls stretched outwards, opening into a living room. Octavia looked around it, from the couch to the TV to the papers that cluttered the coffee table in the middle of the room. Octavia looked at the one on top, picking it out of the pile. “Midnight’s Funeral Service.” It read. “When the sun sets on a life, we’re here to take it past the horizon.” Octavia glanced at it, flipping over the pamphlet in her hands. After a few seconds she crumpled it up and threw it in the garbage can, missing it by a few inches. She didn’t move to properly take care of it, instead moving behind the couch to the open doorway leading into her kitchen. It was a smaller kitchen than most. Cramped and packed with her fridge, counters, and an oven below a stove. She moved under the stove to retrieve a pan and placed it on the stove. Quickly, she retrieved two eggs from her fridge, along with some butter. She placed all of the things on the counter, then stole a glance at the stove’s built-in clock. It read “12:07 AM. “An early breakfast,” thought Octavia. “I think she would’ve loved breakfast in bed. I’ve never actually done that for her before…” Octavia shook her head, thinking of nothing anymore. She just wanted to eat something in peace. She added the butter to the pan and fiddled with the stove’s knobs. After a few seconds of ticking, the stove refused to sputter to life. Octavia sighed and turned it off. She knew she had to do something about the stove. Her solution was only a temporary fix, after all. She reached into a drawer that housed her extra kitchen tools and withdrew a box of matches. Without much though, she pushed out the box from its sleeve and grabbed a single stick. She struck it against the side and watched as it burst into flames. She’d noticed it more prominently as it lit up her face, as she didn’t turn any lights on. She watched the small flame trickle further and further down the stick, watching it dance and lick the wood as it went. She couldn’t avert her eyes from its beauty. Then in the corner of her mind, it spoke. “Hello, Octavia.” The voice was one Octavia knew all too well. The one she was trying to get away from. Her own perfect version of Vinyl that would never leave her. She wanted to hear from her the least. “Vinyl…” said Octavia, speaking only to herself. “Leave me alone.” “No can do,” said Vinyl. “In fact, I have something to say that you might want to hear.” “You’re not real,” proclaimed Octavia. “You can’t tell me anything.” “Oh, on the contrary.” Vinyl’s hand slithered up Octavia’s own. She could feel her soft skin be tickled by Vinyl’s soft fingers. She turned to find no one by her side. Vinyl had switched to her left hand. “I know a way to get all of your troubles to go away.” “Stop that,” said Octavia, breaking down. “You’re not Vinyl.” “Then why are you blushing?” asked Vinyl. “I thought only Vinyl could make you feel this way. Does that mean you miss me? I’m honored.” Octavia was silent. She gritted her teeth to keep her grounded in reality. Vinyl’s touch continued to send shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes hard, trying to blink all of her problems away. When she opened her eyes, a ghostly figure of Vinyl floated in front of her. “I know a way to get all of your troubles to go away,” repeated Vinyl. “And it’s very, very easy.” “H-How?” asked Octavia, letting the Vinyl in front of her caress her whole body. It felt good to be in Vinyl’s arms once again. She wanted to feel this all the time. She wanted Vinyl to hold her and tell her everything would be all right. “All you have to do is…”Vinyl leaned forward and placed her mouth near Octavia’s. “Drop the match.” The fire reached Octavia’s hand and slightly burned her. As she dropped it, she realized it lit the counter’s wooden aflame.The fire spread to the other matches and all of the drawers. Soon,the entire kitchen was on fire. Octavia made for the door, bursting out into the living room. After coughing for a few seconds, she opened her eyes. The fire was already working its way through the living room. Octavia ran to her room and grabbed her phone off of the nightstand. She grabbed her double bass case and left the room. When she did, the fires licked right outside her door, blocking off her escape. “There’s something I need,” said Octavia. “And this flame is not going to stop me from getting it!” Recklessly, she ran through the flame, scorching the bottoms of her pajamas legs. She wrenched open Vinyl’s room allowing smoke from the hallway to billow in. Wildly, her eyes searched the room, locking onto something on Vinyl’s dresser. She grabbed it without a second thought and headed for the window. She threw herself through it first, dragging the case behind her. Once she was clear of the fires, she landed on her back and breathed in the fresh night air. She got up and retreated away from the burning house, phone in hand. She dialed 911 and watched as the place she and Vinyl made for themselves was now leaving before her very eyes. Then, almost unnoticeably, a wispy white apparition appeared in front of Octavia. She couldn’t believe her eyes as Vinyl’s figure seemingly waved at her. Octavia’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Hello? If this is another one of those damn prank calls, I swear—” “Oh, no, I’m sorry,” said Octavia, looking away. “I was just a little… distracted.” She glanced at the last item she grabbed from Vinyl’s room as she talked on the phone. Vinyl and Octavia’s first concert immortalized in a photo. Octavia looked so uncomfortable, but being next to Vinyl made it all worth it. She felt her tears start to flow again, sure that she was dreaming. She thought she cried her eyes out already. Maybe that just meant she had a lot more reasons left in her life to cry. Yes, there are those who cleanse with fire. Octavia never sought to burn her house, but there was something relieving about it. Maybe, without even asking for it, she got exactly what she wanted. The memories of Vinyl she kept in her head was all she needed.