TW - death, su*cide

Part 1 :
Flames that Burn

The blur, the light, the smoke, the flames. I'd start from the beginning but there is none. There is nothing left but the fire that's destroying my home. The fire that was started with no cause. I am left sitting here. I don't dare look behind me. I only look down listening to the cracks of the fire, the engines of the planes fighting it and the people yelling at each other in panic. I can hear their conversations, too. .
"I told you to get the hose!" A woman who sounds about thirty-five yells. An older man yells back, "It was too late Clair! By time I found it, it'd be up in flames!" He sounded more annoyed than worried. So did she. I hear a young child crying. Male, about six or seven at most. I want so badly to comfort him but I would regret looking up, even if for a second.
Then, I feel someone's hand touch and pull my wings as if seeing if they were real.
"That hurts." I say, my voice is low and scratchy, "let go." They obey and apologize. Female voice. Early forties. I can hear more children crying. Even some adults are too. The fire must be getting worse. Even through the light it shown, I can tell it's night. I wish I can watch the calming stars, the brightened moon as it slowly makes it's way across the dark, violet, night. If only. .

Part 2 :
Flowers that Stay

It's the last one, the last flower. In this mess of burnt land I find it. Blinded by tears still, however. I sit down, though with on my arms, legs, hair, dress, wings, all around me, I smile. Around me, destruction from an uncaused fire. In front of me, I hold in my hand, the last living nature. I treasure this, as it is very special. It is the last of my home. The last of what I knew well.The survivor of this uncaused fire that burned down every living thing that was unable to escape the pain it brought to the touch of it. This flower has made me happy, even though the tragic cry of the burned and separated people from the flames. I wish to see more life left but there is none. I do not get get it, if one survives the flames, why not more? Why not others? Why was this one little flower the last left? Or was it merely starting to grow as the fire began?
Strange as it is, it is hopeful. It is life. It is color in this darkness the bright flames of the fire brought and left behind. It is mine. I cannot lose it. No, I mustn't lose what has already been lost. What was longing to be found.I just couldn't bear the fact if I ever did. I just can't let go of this.

Part 3 :
Truth that Lies

I am. . sad. My flower, it is dying. I need to keep is alive but I cannot. I cannot bother nature more than I have by bringing this flower to my temporary home.
Temporary home, yes. An ally of nature has offered their home for me to stay in. He has a family. He helped to berid of the fire. He let me have a room to myself, an extra room in the house of unuse. That is where I am at the moment.
I am crying. Blinded by new tears that come when one is wiped away. How I wish to stop my flower dying. The kind family allowing my stay here has tried hard to comfort me. They even went to my old home in search of more natural life in the dust and fog. However they come back with none. I wish not to bring them sorrow and guilt. I don't like that. They go every week merely for me. Even if they know they'll turn empty handed. I want to smile, to bring my allies happiness, I know I can't however. Me not being happy is why. They say they won't stop until I am happy. But they aren't resting. They need sleep. But they refuse it. I cannot help anymore.

Part 4 :
Wings that Fall

I don't know what happened. The week was a blur of screams and tears. There's a pain in my back and my wings are numb and broken. I guess I was attacked, tried to fly and I failed and fell because I am drowning. I see my flower, it is still dying, wilting. I see feathers and blood floating up to the surface gently. I try to swim up with them but I fail. I am losing breath, choking, the water is flowing in quickly.
It is nighttime. I see the moon. The moon is full. I see the stars. They are flickering. Like singing, they are in rhythm. As I watch, my panic leaves.
Then I see my flower. Yes, the reason I was panicked in the first place. Now my panic returns. I reach to grab it. I must save it. Its petals are coming off and floating up with it. I cannot swim still, like chains on my hands and on my feet I fall.
A face comes to my thoughts, a familiar face. A few familiar faces. My allies, the family. Where are they? Are they safe? I hope they are okay. I owe them so much, for allowing my stay in their home, trying to raise my happiness despite failing every time. So much they've done for me and I've done nothing for them in return. All I can do now is hope for their safety as I fall further underwater.

Part 5 :
Scars that Bleed

I don't know how but I got out of the water, alive. I awaken, only to find myself in a familiar place. A burnt place. My mind glitches and brings back the memories I have been trying to forget, the fire, the screams and cries of many, if not more, families.
There is a stinging pain on my arm and face suddenly. My back and wings are numb. I sit up after realizing I've been laying down this whole time. My head hurts but I force my eyes open only to see that my flower has been planted, yet still wilting. There is nothing here but a dying weeping willow now. Although there is still some ash left, I notice. Nothing left.
I look up, daytime. It's a little cloudy, I think it might rain soon because the clouds continue to build and they grow darker slowly, not so slowly that I can't see and watch however. The shading clouds calm me like the moon and stars do.
I look down at my flower just as a falling petal touches the ground. Again, I hear the flames, the yelling, the cries of the children. I will never forget that. I will never forget the panic I know those families and I shared in rush to escape the uncaused burning and bright flames. That is carved in my memory. Every last part.

Part 6 :
Sorrow that Pours

He is a traitor I hear a deep voice tell me as I awaken from a light, soft sleep. It is raining. I tighten the bandage wrap on my arm after standing up and make my way to the burnt forest.
My wings fall. The once natural wilting, burnt weeping willow, now copped down. My wilting flower, now crushed. And, in the midst of it all, commanding the wrong and harsh work, is the ones I thought I could trust. The one whom lent their home for me to share.
But why? How? How could they do this guiltlessly? Knowing of this place being once my home? I try to refuse the fact. A dream maybe? If so, a nightmare.
"He is a traitor" I can hear myself whisper before knowing I even did. "He is a lie" again I hear. I can feel myself shaking in my saddened, shocked state as the rain falls on my skin in the same panicked rush I feel now.
I lose my train of thought and my mind blurs.
I remember yelling however I Have yet to remember what he said. My bandage is torn and wings broken.
Why did he have to do that? Why did he betray me like this? Why?

Part 7 :
Revenge that Kills

So what if they come back to their house thrashed, destroyed? They did the same to me, why would I care?
"I'm a mess, aren't I?" I silently whisper. Though a whisper so silent, even close is unheard.
I continue walking, knife gripped tightly in my hand, to my destroyed home. However, after I see a girl, probably a teenager, 16, pull out her phone and call someone, I decide that I mustn't show my chosen weapon. I continue to walk, now fast pace, and fold my wings over myself and the knife.
It was worse than when I last saw it. Everything but the stump is removed. Not anything left. I am saddened by this but it must not stop me.
"Back again? Didn't you learn your lesson last time?"
I say nothing to him as I bring out my weapon.
"How unfair." He mocks. "I didn't get a chance to prepare." He then reaches and grabs a sharpened stick and a few rocks. The first he throws misses. Shocked, he attempts a second time. This one, I avoid quickly. However, not the third.
That's when I start running for him. Knife in hand.
The last thing I hear are his screams cut off with a brutal stab which were then, and now now, the screams of his family in terror.
I didn't do it. .

Part 8 :
Death that Lives

I didn't do it! I. . I couldn't have! I. .
"I did it" it feels like years since I've used my voice. As I look at my hands, full of blood, then the knife I used. Not too far from where I am sitting, his body.
The sounds of sirens near while I remain still. My wings feel heavy, like metal sewn on my back.
Although there is no rain, dark grey clouds fly over us. They're crying now. I can hear the youngest asking why I killed him. I want to answer her saying "I don't know." I can't bring myself to move though, at least while the cops weren't here.
The sirens are louder now. They can't find me. It would be hard to explain. Even with my wings, as heavy as they are, I take my knife and fly off. I think they see me. I must go higher. But it hurts. I feel as if I am falling. Even though I remain in the air. Flapping. It hurts. I want to land but it is not safe. Finally above clouds. They won't find me. . at least, I hope they won't. But I mustn't dwell on that now. I must work on healing myself, even if it leaves a scar.

Part 9 :
Tears that Freeze

Returning is hard. But they aren't here now so it is safe. My scars have yet to heal however, and remains on my dress is the blood of my once known ally now my enemy, dead.
It is dark, raining. Cold. Although I am not crying, frozen tears remain to fall down my cheek.
The patch along my eye holds back the blood yearning to escape the now empty socket where my eye once was held. I mustn't turn back now, as there is no 'back' to turn to.
It is sad. My limited time here and I've forgotten my own existence. I know that when I see him again, he will not forgive me. Even though I can't stop apologizing.
Apologizing for all I have done. Because, for me, I didn't deserve their help. I didn't deserve what I got.
A tombstone now lays by the stump, now growing. New plants appear from the ash. I fail to fly, knowing of my limit. Where it stands. What I must do. What I don't want to do.

Part 0 :
Beginnings that End

If only. . I just can't let go of this. . I cannot help anymore. . All I can do now is hope for their safety as I fall further underwater. . Every last part. . Why? . . I didn't do it. . I must work on healing myself even if it leaves a scar. . What I don't want to do. .
Everything turns black. A line of words comes back. . No sentences. . One after the other. . Barely a pause before the next.
At least, up until now. Up until now I thought I was safe. Up until now I felt strongly about everything. Up until now. .
Yes! I barely remember but yes! My mind is broken and full of chaos but yes. . Yes..
Who was it that betrayed me and why? And why? I can hear my thoughts as if I speak them aloud but my lips refuse to move with them. With the rest of my mind.
I see someone. Who? The person answers with another question, "Why are you here?" Without an answer the man answer himself, "What did you do?" As if years gone by without a words he speaks again, "All is forgiven. Now, try again."
I wake up. All memories here. Except one is not as it should be. .
"Are you okay? Can you hear me? She's awake!"A familiar voice is now followed by the face of its speaker.
But. . He should be dead. .

© ms160

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Author note : Not sure if I posted this story here or not, it's one of my oldest I've written and since I'm dealing with writer's block I figured I'd bring this mess into the light. Lmk if I should rewrite it sometime. I've tried writing a prequel but that flopped so