ALEXANDER

Alexander had two things in mind: pasta and the irony of being burned alive. He continuously rammed his shoulder against the door which felt like was going to bruise nicely. He would worry about that later, as soon as he escaped this room. If he escaped. Sweat dripped down his forehead like a porous pitcher. Every fiber of his being hurt. His body, his shoulder, his head and even though it seemed impossible he could feel his hair hurting too.

The flames seemed to inch nearer by the second. So once again even after the previous failed attempts he tried to control the fire. With one hand hovering in the air, he focused. Tried to imagine controlling the flames, imagined them extinguish under his power. To his surprise he could feel the blood in his fingers start to lightly bubble underneath his skin, but to no avail nothing happened. Fierce scarlet flames encircled the room, making it hard to breathe and all he could think was, "If I make it out alive I'm making sure I get some pasta." By now he had somewhat accepted his fate of dying right there on the spot but then some deep primitive side of him told him to fight. This small voice in his head telling him to keep going.

In his panic induced haze he remembered something his father once told him. "If you're in a burning place always cover your mouth and nose. Chances are likely you'll die of smoke inhalation before you are burnt to a crisp," his father's gruff voice reverberated throughout his pounding skull. The speech his father gave was an effect of his occupation. He was a firefighter and it was either nature's way of showing irony or just a cruel tragedy that during his father's final hours he found out his son was gifted or rather cursed with the gift of fire. The same thing that he made his life's mission to protect people from. The same thing that had killed him and would eventually kill his son as well.

Alexander had forgotten to do what his father had time and time again ingrained in his brain. To cover his face during a fire. By now he imagined his lungs would be filled with smoke, killing him slowly from the inside out. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him but he swore it felt like he was choking. The roof looked seconds away from caving in and the edges of his vision started to blacken. Alexander had lost all sensation in his body as he felt himself falling and falling but never felt himself hit the ground. The last thing he remembered was a pair of delicate hands clutching him from behind and then Alexander promptly fell into an abyss of darkness