Page 88 of Burn for Me

If this is how I meet my end, then so be it—as long as she's in my arms and understands that she has given me the privilege of feeling something so pure, especially after I thought I could never experience such an emotion again.

“Till death do us part and even after.”

Twenty-Nine

9-4-2024

I don't want death to part us.

-Jasmine

Sweat trickles down my brow and into my eyes while my breath bounces off the plastic interior of the respirator, making it even harder to draw air into my lungs. It’s sweltering, and I can see the reflection of the flames in the goggles of my mask, even with Sam holding me firmly to shield me from the sight.

I'm not ready to die. I've always dreamed of seeing the world and living freely, but I've changed my mind. I would gladly live as a prisoner for the rest of my life as long as it means I can staywith him. Even as my worst fear gnaws at me, it's nowhere near as horrifying as the moment I saw that man and thought he had killed Sam. It felt like my heart was turned to ash, blown away by the wind.

Another loud crash echoes, and Sam's arms tighten around me. His body, hunched over mine, jerks as the harsh hiss of his respirator drowns out the crackling of burning wood. Jonathan yells something, but my earpiece crackles with static due to the damage it sustained during my struggle with the man.

I clutch tighter to Sam's waist, my nails digging into the fabric of his clothes. Usually, his presence would calm me, but the rapid rise and fall of his chest tells me that his composed exterior is starting to crumble.He’s panicking. If he's freaked out, that can only mean one thing:this is it.

“I love you too.” I know my voice is broken, but there's no stopping the emotion, not when I know I'm about to lose the one thing I've done right in my entire life. I yelp as something hot touches my leg, and I squirm further into Sam's chest, but it’s too hard to move when he has such a death grip on me.

I thought that the moments I shared with Sam might help ease my fear—that whenever I remembered the horrifying flames, I would instead think of him. But right now, I can only focus on how they'll take yet another thing I love away from me. Yelling echoes through the space, and a sick, twisted part of my mind tells me that Jonathan is the first victim of the flames and that we are next.

“Grab her!” Sam's chest rumbles against mine, and a pair of hands is ripping at my back, but I keep trying to break free so I can hold onto him. If I'm going to die, I want to be in the safest place I know.

“God damn it, Jas, come on!” I know the voice, but don’t let up my hold.

As if Sam realizes I'm not going to listen, he starts shoving at my body, forcing my limbs off of him, and finally, a sob breaks free. An arm is wrapped around my throat, and I'm being pulled back, which only makes things worse when I see two figures replace my spot. Sam hunches forward to his hands to expose a thick piece of concrete layered over his back, restraining his calves.

One figure turns back, pointing at the person dragging me, and snaps, “Get the fuck out of here, little siren!”

“No!” I yell as Sharkie continues dragging me back, and I reach for the burning doorframe to stay within the crumbling building. If he's going to burn, I want to burn with him. Sharkie successfully frees me from the wood, and I kick against the grass, refusing to let my line of sight waver from Tide and Jonathan as they push against the ledge restraining Sam.

Sharkie pushes me backward, falling to the pavement and yanking my mask off. I gasp and squint against the bright light.

“Damn it, Jasmine, you have to calm down; they'll get him!”

Just as the words are out of her mouth, I break free from her grasp.How is she not more panicked?The person she loves is inside, too. I throw myself onto my stomach, digging my heels into the street and gripping the road's edge to push myself up.

I'm not leaving him.

“Help me!” Sharkie yells, and I take off in a dead sprint toward the building. The air is knocked out of my lungs when a weight three times my size slams into my back. Not just one pair of hands, but two are trying to hold me in place. Looking up, I see the large building fully engulfed in terrifying flames. Someone new starts tugging on the back of my shirt.

A large blast burst through the door, flames soaring as the red and orange hues dance menacingly. I feel as if my soul has left my body, and I can only sit in shock, my entire being shattering with a cry that breaks the little hope I have left. Tears streamdown my face as I scream until my voice falters, only to scream some more.

I feel empty as I try to recall every fleeting smile I ever drew from him, how his scarred skin felt under my fingertips, his genuine laughter shaking his chest, and how his head would tilt back with the sound.

I can't look away as the top of the building begins to concave and tumble lower. No matter how much Sharkie tries to pull my head into her shoulders, I’m desperately clawing at the ground in a futile attempt to go back inside and hold onto whatever remains of him, just as he once held me. I want to protect and offer him the safety I always felt in his arms.

I don't want death to part us.

My vision is blurry, filled with black spots, and I refuse to draw in any air. The person to my right lets go and stands up; I can barely make out their silhouette as they take off, running toward someone else. Sharkie lets go, and then the other person follows, but I have no fight left. I close my eyes and curl up on the ground, burying my face in my hands as my whole body shakes, feeling as if it has lost the very essence that kept it alive. Even as the grass crunches before me, I can't move.

“Shhh, it's okay.”

It feels as if I can still hear Sam trying to calm me down. I already miss that side of him—the side he only showed to me.

“Are those tears for me, little siren?” I jolt my head toward the sound and see Tide ripping off his respirator while Sharkie falls into his chest, contradicting the affectionate gesture by throwing a punch into his side. I quickly turn the other way and spot Jonathan running his hand over his beard as he stands awkwardly in front of Delilah.

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