Inferno

She caught fire on a sunlit July day, the endless blue sky opposing the flames inside her. She’s lost in the grip of inevitability, burning alive with pain, raw and enflamed. An hour ago Charlotte was with her, sparkling blue eyes and unruly blond hair with a smile that captured the whole room. She was something Lily was used to, a constant. Charlotte was a security blanket that made the rough times seem more manageable. For years they had remained best friends. Through breakups and makeups, boyfriends and broken hearts, their bond had proven to be permanent. But now all she has is a hastily written last text message and a raging fire inside her.

She’s being suffocated in the withering heat. Smoke has entered her lungs and each breath feels like her chest is being torn apart, so she does the only thing she can; she runs. She runs as far and as fast as possible until she finally collapses at the bottom of a tree between Sarah Street and Amster Drive, their streets. Before she realizes what she’s doing, her hands and feet dance up the limbs of the tree, as if a ritual. When she reaches the top, she steps through the linen door into their haven.

The tree house was their summer project seven years ago, a seemingly large and challenging task for two small nine year old girls, yet they did it. Lopsided and fragile, there stood their masterpiece. Lily holds her breath as she looks around, nostalgia rippling through her body. The sunflower curtains twirl in the breeze, casting shadows along the walls, illuminating her childhood.

Abandoned art projects and macaroni picture frames litter the floor, countless years’ worth of dust piled on top of them. In the left corner sits a week old bowl of chips and half a dozen empty soda bottles, forgotten in the girls’ haste to get home. And pictures, dozens of pictures paint the walls, each one telling a different tale, another adventure. Their kindergarten graduation, wearing big toothless grins and matching butterfly sandals; them at the beach, wearing oversized sunglasses and laughing as the waves crash around them; and their first day of high school.

Through every up and down and turnaround of Lily’s life, Charlotte had been there with her. Holding her hand and giving her reassurance, something she would never do again.
“She’s dead.” It’s a whisper in the wind, the universe’s cruel reminder that Charlotte is truly and utterly gone.

The realization of this hits Lily like a train. And just like that her pain turns to sharp and hostile anger. Anger at Charlotte for leaving her, anger at the world for tearing her away and anger at herself for not being able protect Charlotte. The anger fills her, rippling through her bloodstream until that’s all she can focus on. The tree house turns red, flickering in and out of her vision.
“Burn me down to the ground!” She screams, falling to her knees. She begs the flames inside herself to consume her, anything to stop the overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

Her face is damp with tears and she gasps for breath in the bitter air. She’s utterly and hopelessly alone, and why? There’s no possible way to know why Charlotte ended up in a tangle of tree branches and metal. Her car, barely distinguishable, looked as if it was pinched between someone’s pointer finger and thumb, tiny particles of glass glittering in the air. Lily was one of the first to the scene, walking towards it as if in dream. A man in a uniform turned her in the opposite direction, but not before she caught a glimpse of red on the pavement and a scatter of blond hair.

The rest was a blur and somehow, she had ended up in her old childhood tree house, reliving memories that only succeeded in fueling the fire more.
***
The heat gives way to a dismal rain on the day of Charlotte’s funeral, the universe weeping as well. The soft grass turns into a muddy battlefield as the whole town gathers around the dark casket. Lily stands off to the side under a shaded willow tree, refusing to look at the hollow body of her best friend.

After the service, when all the tears have dried with the rain, everyone leaves. They turn their back on the freshly dug up ground and push thoughts of Charlotte out of their heads. Lily is the only one who stays. No matter how much staring at the pile of dirt hurts, she knows leaving would be more painful.

Her feet drag across the ground, paving a muddy path through the grass behind her. With each step forward she can feel God falling farther from her fingertips. Her legs give out halfway and she drags her body to the edge of the freshly dug up ground, her tears blurring the world around her.

“You can’t leave me. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to graduate together, go to prom, choose Universities, and watch each other get old.” Lily’s voice rises as she slowly sits up. “You promised. You and me against the world, I can’t do this without you. Please come back. Please.”

She clutches the mud between her fists, trying desperately to tether herself to the earth. Her tears mix with the earth as she walks away, her final parting to Charlotte.
***
The shock of Charlotte’s death disappears on the edge of a vanishing summer cloud. The chill September wind turns Lily’s sharp, fresh pain into a numbing reminder as the leaves turn golden. Each day feels as if Lily is watching her life through frosted glass. She wakes up in the same room, in the same house, in the same town with the same people, yet everything appears partial. The edges blur like an artist smudging their finger across a painting before it is fully dry.

It’s been three impossibly long months since Charlotte left. 97 agonizing days. 2 328 wounded hours. 139 680 sorrowful minutes. But somehow Lily’s still here. No matter how many nights she goes to bed wishing she was someone else, someplace else, she still wakes up as the same grief stricken person each morning with the same constant inferno. Grief and blame act as kindling, fueling the growing fire insider herself. She misses Charlotte more than a battleship missing home. Like she was sick and Charlotte was the only cure.
School in September is agonizing by herself. A constant shadow follows her through the halls, hovering over her desk, whispering over her shoulder in the cafeteria. Too many times Lily turns around expecting Charlotte’s famous smirk to be looking back at her, but instead she’s faced with yet another empty seat, another space beside her locker and another day without Charlotte.
Looks of pity follow Lily around and people begin treating her like crystal. Teachers don’t call on her in class and students avoid talking to her, afraid of making matters worse. Lily withdraws into herself. She denies friends, teachers and her parents’ access into her world. The tree house becomes her home, offering a sense of comfort that only Charlotte could offer. Lily chooses to spend most of her time in the enclosed space, surrounding herself with memories.

A strange sense of painful security encases Lily while in the tree house. Being constantly surrounded by reminders of Charlotte reopens the wound, creating fresh pain. The pain acts as a reminder, ensuring Charlotte never leaves her mind. The fear of forgetting the memories becomes overwhelming, Camp Cedarledge in grade six, spending every New Year’s Eve under blankets eating popcorn, and sweltering summer days spent in the pool. The fear of forgetting Charlotte engulfs her, making the fire rage on.
***


The anniversary of Charlotte’s death creeps up on Lily like a stalking lion. She had long ago realized that her tears didn’t have the power to bring Charlotte back, nothing did, and so instead of looking back at the memories with hurt and hate, she begins seeing them in a new light. The fire inside hers becomes a beacon for the darkest of days, pushing Lily further towards acceptance. And eventually, the fire begins to dwindle. The flames became a flicker, the ashes floating away in the breeze, until all that is left is a warm glow.

When July comes around again, Lily doesn’t look at it with detest, she merely sees it as another month to commemorate Charlotte. Another month to live life to the fullest because she recognizes that Charlotte would have wanted that more than anything.

When she visits Charlotte’s grave on a sun soaked day, she sits down in front of the burgundy stone and smiles.

“I hope you’re in heaven watching ER shows or capturing the angels with your camera. I hope there’s an endless supply of potato chips and Coca-Cola and I hope you’re happy. I hope your days are filled with laughter and smiles and I hope you sometimes think to look down at me. I hope you still remember me and the tree house. I hope you haven’t forgotten nights lying under the stars and spaghetti Thursdays and The Notebook. I hope you’re the one watching over me and I hope you like what you see.”

This time, when Lily steps away from the grave regret doesn’t fill her, instead a sense of closure does. The cobalt sky turns grey with storm clouds as Lily walks along the gravel path towards the exit. Rain begins to paint the world around her and as the first droplet touches her head, she knows it is Charlotte. Because, as Charlotte had done so many times before, she was coming to rescue Lily. As the rain starts to seep through her skin, she can’t help a smile spreading across her face as the last remnants of the fire finally fade.