The Survivors

             He awoke from deep sleep to the smell of smoke and the crackling of fire. With the grogginess still dancing in his mind, he thought he was dreaming. The illusion of the dream quickly and terrifyingly snapped him into reality with a burning sensation in his lungs. Panic kicked in, and for just a moment, his mind betrayed him with thoughts of dying right here and now in his bed.         

            He began to stifle the thoughts of death and become an overcooked human tater-tot. The bedroom only had one door in or out with a closet that housed mementos from his childhood. Then, the thoughts of trying to save all those physical memories flooded over him with brief flashes in his mind. He tried to push those out of his head and think of getting out of the room, most likely through the window. He knew that would work as he was on the first floor. He got out of his bed and onto his hands and knees, knowing that the lower he was, the better he could breathe while keeping under the heated smoke.

            Memories from the items in the closet kept him from moving. He had his stuffed Pink Panther animal since he was about five. It was one of the very few items that had survived his childhood; almost all other things were lost from move to move. But this stuffed animal he still had used to sit on his desk next to his computer. That was his safest, most trustworthy companion for many years, who kept him safe from horrible adults. He must save him!

            Then, the Godzilla toy that he had since he was a kid flooded his mind. Visions of Godzilla and him destroying Lego buildings, to the horrified looks of mini-figs, flooded his mind. This toy allowed him to imagine exacting revenge on those who abused him, picked on him, and called him names. It was his only outlet for therapy and releasing the anger inflicted by others. Surely, he can save both.

            He began to move to the closet to make his move. He had two hands, and the fire wasn’t entering the room yet as he could see the dancing of flames licking the bottom gap under the door. There he stopped, mesmerized in the dance of air and fire, how it was sucking in the air from his room, but yet the fire slowly crept in through that little crack. Staring, he was amazed at how the flame acted like it was eating the air and the wood of the door. As it entered the room at the bottom of the door, the dancing changed from a slow, rhythmic, hypnotizing dance to a more frantic seizure-like one.

            Now was not the time to be mesmerized by the dancing death approaching him through the bottom of the door. He had memories to save, to scower in the closet for and grab. Knowing now time was not on his side, he needed to act quickly as the air above his head began to get warmer.

            But again, his mind flashed, and yet another memory. This one now was of Woodstock, Snoop’s trusted companion and friend. Woodstock was something he had since he was an infant, or so he was told by his birth giver, as he couldn’t remember back that far. Woodstock had a string that went through him with a finger ring on each end. If you held the one above him and pulled on the one below him, it looked like he was flying up and making chirping noises in the process. He knows he can save all three, and that is possible.

            Now, he started to crawl slowly towards his closet as he could still see hazily in front of him. The smell of smoke was getting redolent in his nose, making his eyes water even more. Crawling from his bed to the closet across the room seemed like a lifetime. The flames crazily danced behind him like a living hourglass, reminding him of fleeting time before full encroachment into the room.

            Then, another flash of memory floods his mind with the rare childhood happiness he experienced. A choose-your-own-adventure book called The Cave of Time that he had acquired from an elementary school he attended but couldn’t remember. This is one of those books where you need to choose what to do as you read. You start in the book discovering this cave, and as you progress through it, you have to pick and choose what to do: turn left, go to page twelve, go straight, and turn to page thirty-six. There were so many choices and deaths trying to escape the cave you so foolishly entered. This book lets him escape the shitty moments of his childhood, so it can quickly now help save him from this fire with its luck. He can soon stuff it into the pocket of his pajama pants.

            That’s it now; he knew that he could save those four items and then hoped that the only damage that occurred to the other items was smoke and water damage from the firefighters. That was it, as he pushed the memories of different items out of his head. These things that protected him and gave him salvation as a child he had to save. He knew that he needed to franticly return the favor of those items, memories, saviors, and a brief respite from an otherwise shitty childhood.

            He made it to the closet with a heavy relief that the fire was still tickling the bottom of the door. With haste and panic, he began to look for the three friends and the book of perilous choices. Knowing that Pink Panther and Godzilla were on the top shelf was an easy rescue; he just needed to remember what shoe box the book and Woodstock were in. With them all at the bottom of the closet, he quickly opened them up one at a time to check. When one box didn’t produce the result of a save, he closed it back up in hopes that the lids would protect its contents.

            The third box yielded him the book, which he fumbled into the pajama pants pocket, moving it around to ensure security and not fall out. The fourth box open left him eye to eye with Woodstock. This one was easy; the string that went through his body would make like a necklace, and he could tie a knot in it, looping around his neck. Now Godzilla and Pink Panther were easy, one for each hand. With all in tow, he then hastily crawled to the window.

            As he turned toward the window, he could see faint flashing lights come in through the smoke in the room. Relief flooded him because he knew help was right outside the window, and if it were the fire department, that water would soon stifle the red dancing behind him. This is where living on the first floor was a benefit; there was no diving out the window from a higher floor, risking injury or even death as he crawled, which made him chuckle, escaping a fire only to fall to his death.

            Reaching the window, he knew the only way to unlock it was to stand up in the smoke and heat. As he did, the air got thicker and hotter to breathe in, suffocating him and making him start to cough violently. Unable to keep his eyes open, he fumbled for the window lock in the middle of the window to unlatch the bottom pane so he could slide the window open. With fingers finally acquiring the lever and moving it to the side, the window was ready to open.

            Kneeling now, he readied himself to slip the window up as fast as possible and then threw himself out of the house onto the ground. This was the moment to escape the red dancing flames entering his room. With a quick burst of energy, he shot the window up and then, in the same motion, began to spring forward to the newly created opening, widow screen be damned. That’s when it happened: all hell broke loose, and that fire dance enveloped him, making him the dance partner the flames sought.

            In that flash, he had about half his body out the window in a Superman-style jump, which, in his mind, he was hoping looked good at the wide-eyed first responders. Judging by the looks on their faces, he must have looked terrific. Pink Panther was in his right hand, Godzilla was in his left hand with both arms outstretched in front of him, while Woodstock hung around his neck like a 90s Rapper bling. Meanwhile, the book was held securely in the pocket of his pajama pants. The flames tickled his feet from the backdraft he created by opening the window and allowing all that nice air into the dance of the fire.

            He tumbled as he hit the ground, remembering to pull all the items into his chest to ensure nothing would be damaged. As he lay there in the fetal position on the ground, he finally felt relief and comfort. He made it. Alive. He now returned the favor and saved his saviors, who helped him for most of his childhood. He lay there, hugging his three pals with all his love, knowing they were all there for each other.