Smoke entered Darren's throat and nostrils as he coughed himself awake. Every movement hurt like hell from his hips upwards. His head felt like it would explode or had exploded. He coughed repeatedly as he slowly focused on his surroundings. "Fire, FIRE!" he screamed to himself as his thoughts turned to his mother.
The room wasn't ablaze, the fire was elsewhere in the house but the thick grey and rubber smelling smoke was making it extremely difficult to breathe and almost impossible to see.
Darren couldn't even shout, his throat had closed up with the carbon monoxide and other toxics he was breathing in. He knew he couldn't do anything for his mum wherever she was. He knew he had to get out.
Darren tried to work out where the door was, the smoke was really thick now. He stumbled in what he thought was the direction but came up against a table. He knew the window was immediately to the right of that table and with all the effort he could muster, he ran and dived at it.
Darren regained consciousness two days later. He had no idea where he was at first but later realised he was in a hospital. His throat felt like it was on fire. Two drips had been inserted into his arms. As his eyes continued to focus, he saw a shape of a person, a man he thought, sitting on a chair by the window, just watching.
Darren opened his mouth to say something but the pain was even more intense. He tried to beckon to the person to come closer and although there was some slight movement, the figure remained seated, just watching.
Tears welled in Darren's eyes at the pain he was in and Arthur thought of his poor mother who must surely now be dead. He drifted off and on into consciousness over the next few days and each time he looked, the figure remained.
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.