When He Dumped Me in a Fire

Adalind’s P.O.V

‘Water!’ The pump is broken! There’s someone down here! I’ll go get myself! Not safe, the wood on the body is burning!

My eyes flickered open, a heavy weight pressing on my senses. For a terrifying moment, the world was painted in a horrifying mix of orange and black, the taste of smoke thick in my mouth. My heart pounded like it wanted to burst out of my ribcage. I was certain I was still there, engulfed in the flames, stuck and trapped. Help!

But then, a breath, clean and fresh, filled my lungs. My lungs seized in surprise, gasping for the unfamiliar sensations, and just like that, the world slowly sharpened into focus.

I was lying on something hard, moving. The ceiling above me was a blur of gray, but the air was fresh and cold.

Panic seized me again. Where was I? What had happened? I tried to sit up, but a strong arm pinned me down. My head throbbed like a maddening drum and I struggled against the restraint, fear fueling my desperate attempts to escape being stuck and trapped again.

“Easy,” A smooth, soothing voice rumbled above me and my brain emptied out almost immediately, slowly realizing I was being carried.

A shaft of light appeared ahead, growing larger with each passing moment. We were exiting the building. Relief washed over me in waves but it was quickly replaced by confusion. Who was carrying me? Whilst clad in a wet sweatshirt, the back was firm and strong, just like Nick. It had to be Nick! He came to save me after all.

“Nick,” I croaked, praying my voice rose above the thumps of my boyfriend’s boots.

No answer.

Desperation clawed at my throat. I needed to see Nick’s face, to confirm my hope. But no matter how hard I squirmed, he ignored me. With a jolt, we burst into the open and the following noise was overwhelming. I soon felt myself being lowered onto something cold and hard. A stretcher, I realized.

I blinked open my eyes with effort, the world blurring at the edges. A figure loomed over me, a faceless silhouette against the sun and glaring lights. I opened my mouth to speak, but a cold, wet, mask was pressed over it, filling my lungs with a fresh wave of oxygen. The world was fading away, slipping into darkness.

A final thought formed in my mind before oblivion claimed me again. The one who helped me wasn’t my boyfriend. It wasn’t Nick.

“Adalind!”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes blinking as I tried to focus on the blurry figures hovering over me. A wave of nausea hit me as I became aware of my surroundings. The cream walls, the beeping monitors, and yes, the smell of antiseptic that I still haven’t gotten used to. It was the familiar environment of the hospital where I worked.

“Adalind! Can you hear me? A familiar voice cut through the fog in my head and I turned my head to the side of my bed. It was Monroe, my department director. His face hovered over me, lines of worry etched on his forehead.

“How did I get here?” I asked in a hoarse voice, knowing I should have died in that fire.

Monroe’s expression softened and the worry left. “You were rescued from the fire in your apartment by the hero that brought you here. Maybe you’ll meet him in the future.” His voice was gentle, but his eyes held a strange intensity which was weird for Monroe. “You’re going to be okay, Ada. you’re safe now.”

I nodded, swallowing saliva to wet my throat and then I cut my gaze to the end of the bed, grimacing when I saw my ankle propped up with bandages covering it. A flurry of activity soon surrounded me as nurses and my doctor colleagues came to check on me. The questions thrown at me made it easy for me to ignore the image of flames consuming my home. The images that plagued me.

“How did it happen? One of my colleagues, Medical assistant Stella asked.

My throat tightened. “Negligence.” I managed to say in a barely audible voice. “I think I left the stove on.”

Their eyes widened in sympathy. “You’re lucky to be alive.” another colleague said. “Be careful next time, Dr. Schade.”

The room fell silent until someone cleared their throat. “Why is Nick not here yet?”

The question hit me like a physical blow, a fucking freight train. Nick. my boyfriend. Who was a fucking firefighter? He didn’t give a rat’s ass about me. A lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t look at anyone. I couldn’t speak.

It felt like my tongue was tied. The hero who had saved me was a stranger, and the man I had trusted had failed me.