Tahereh Mafi - Ignite Me

I am an hourglass.

My seventeen years have collapsed and buried me from the inside out. My legs feel full of sand and stapled together, my mind overflowing with grains of indecision, choices unmade and impatient as time runs out of my body. The small hand of a clock taps me at one and two, three and four, whispering hello, get up, stand up, its time to

wake up

wake up

Wake up, he whispers.

A sharp intake of breath and Im awake but not up, surprised but not scared, somehow staring into the very desperately green eyes that seem to know too much, too well. Aaron Warner Anderson is bent over me, his worried eyes inspecting me, his hand caught in the air like he mightve been about to touch me.

He jerks back.

He stares, unblinking, chest rising and falling.

Good morning, I assume. Im unsure of my voice, of the hour and this day, of these words leaving my lips and this body that contains me.

I notice hes wearing a white button-down, half untucked into his curiously unrumpled black slacks. His shirtsleeves are folded, pushed up past his elbows.

His smile looks like it hurts.

I pull myself into a seated position and Warner shifts to accommodate me. I have to close my eyes to steady the sudden dizziness, but I force myself to remain still until the feeling passes.

Im tired and weak from hunger, but other than a few general aches, I seem to be fine. Im alive. Im breathing and blinking and feeling human and I know exactly why.

I meet his eyes. You saved my life.

I was shot in the chest.

Warners father put a bullet in my body and I can still feel the echoes of it. If I focus, I can relive the exact moment it happened; the pain: so intense, so excruciating; Ill never be able to forget it.

I suck in a startled breath.

Im finally aware of the familiar foreignness of this room and Im quickly seized by a panic that screams I did not wake up where I fell asleep. My heart is racing and Im inching away from him, hitting my back against the headboard, clutching at these sheets, trying not to stare at the chandelier I remember all too well

Its okay Warner is saying. Its all right

What am I doing here? Panic, panic; terror clouds my consciousness. Why did you bring me here again?

Juliette, please, Im not going to hurt you

Then why did you bring me here? My voice is starting to break and Im struggling to keep it steady. Why bring me back to this hellhole

I had to hide you. He exhales, looks up at the wall.

What? Why?

No one knows youre alive. He turns to look at me. I had to get back to base. I needed to pretend everything was back to normal and I was running out of time.

I force myself to lock away the fear.

I study his face and analyze his patient, earnest tone. I remember him last nightit mustve been last nightI remember his face, remember him lying next to me in the dark. He was tender and kind and gentle and he saved me, saved my life. Probably carried me into bed. Tucked me in beside him. It mustve been him.

But when I glance down at my body I realize Im wearing clean clothes, no blood or holes or anything anywhere and I wonder who washed me, wonder who changed me, and worry that mightve been Warner, too.

Did you . . . I hesitate, touching the hem of the shirt Im wearing. DidI meanmy clothes

He smiles. He stares until Im blushing and I decide I hate him a little and then he shakes his head. Looks into his palms. No, he says. The girls took care of that. I just carried you to bed.

The girls, I whisper, dazed.

The girls.

Sonya and Sara. They were there too, the healer twins, they helped Warner. They helped him save me because hes the only one who can touch me now, the only person in the world whod have been able to transfer their healing power safely into my body.

My thoughts are on fire.

Where are the girls what happened to the girls and where is Anderson and the war and oh God whats happened to Adam and Kenji and Castle and I have to get up I have to get up I have to get up and get out of bed and get going

but

I try to move and Warner catches me. Im off-balance, unsteady; I still feel as though my legs are anchored to this bed and Im suddenly unable to breathe, seeing spots and feeling faint. Need up. Need out.

Cant.

Warner. My eyes are frantic on his face. What happened? Whats happening with the battle?

Please, he says, gripping my shoulders. You need to start slowly; you should eat something

Tell me

Dont you want to eat first? Or shower?

No, I hear myself say. I have to know now.

One moment. Two and three.

Warner takes a deep breath. A million more. Right hand over left, spinning the jade ring on his pinkie finger over and over and over and over Its over, he says.

What?

I say the word but my lips make no sound. Im numb, somehow. Blinking and seeing nothing.

Its over, he says again.

No.

I exhale the word, exhale the impossibility.

He nods. Hes disagreeing with me.

No.

Juliette.

No, I say. No. No. Dont be stupid, I say to him. Dont be ridiculous, I say to him. Dont lie to me goddamn you, but now my voice is high and broken and shaking and No, I gasp, no, no, no

I actually stand up this time. My eyes are filling fast with tears and I blink and blink but the world is a mess and I want to laugh because all I can think is how horrible and beautiful it is, that our eyes blur the truth when we cant bear to see it.

The ground is hard.

I know this to be an actual fact because its suddenly pressed against my face and Warner is trying to touch me but I think I scream and slap his hands away because I already know the answer. I must already know the answer because I can feel the revulsion bubbling up and unsettling my insides but I ask anyway. Im horizontal and somehow still tipping over and the holes in my head are tearing open and Im staring at a spot on the carpet not ten feet away and Im not sure Im even alive but I have to hear him say it.

Why? I ask.

Its just a word, stupid and simple.

Why is the battle over? I ask. Im not breathing anymore, not really speaking at all; just expelling letters through my lips.

Warner is not looking at me.

Hes looking at the wall and at the floor and at the bedsheets and at the way his knuckles look when he clenches his fists but no not at me he wont look at me and his next words are so, so soft.

Because theyre dead, love. Theyre all dead.

My body locks.

My bones, my blood, my brain freeze in place, seizing in some kind of sudden, uncontrollable paralysis that spreads through me so quickly I cant seem to breathe. Im wheezing in deep, strained inhalations, and the walls wont stop swaying in front of me.

Warner pulls me into his arms.

Let go of me, I scream, but, oh, only in my imagination because my lips are finished working and my heart has just expired and my mind has gone to hell for the day and my eyes my eyes I think theyre bleeding. Warner is whispering words of comfort I cant hear and his arms are wrapped entirely around me, trying to keep me together through sheer physical force but its no use.

I feel nothing.

Warner is shushing me, rocking me back and forth, and its only then that I realize Im making the most excruciating, earsplitting sound, agony ripping through me. I want to speak, to protest, to accuse Warner, to blame him, to call him a liar, but I can say nothing, can form nothing but sounds so pitiful Im almost ashamed of myself. I break free of his arms, gasping and doubling over, clutching my stomach.