It had one stronger than mine.
But that was easy to do, wasn’t it?
My half a heart was barely living while this creek in the middle of nowhere was thriving.
I laid down in it without thinking, hoping to soak some of it up or die of hypothermia trying. River rocks became a bed for my tired limbs and the couple inches of icy water my sheets as I laid back and stared up at the stars.
Were they judging me?
Were they looking down at this half-naked girl curled up in the arms of a shallow creek and wondering what the fuck was wrong with her?
Or did they know? Could they see the shine they cast over my tear-damp cheeks? Maybe since they were made out of fire, they could sense that I was too, and they were watching me weep with understanding.
That’s all I did for however long before I passed out—filled the little river with my saltwater and spoke to the stars until everything, including them, was black.
The void of black was silent for so long. So silent and so peaceful.
At some blurry point, the void started rocking. Or the water. I wasn’t sure, but something was rocking me back and forth like I’d fallen asleep in the embrace of the ocean rather than a sweet little creek.
It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t ideal either, and I was pretty sure I’d started whining for the moving to stop so I could sleep or die in peace.
It didn’t.
Instead, it ruined the perfect silence too with a voice so deep it had to belong to the ocean.
It was right up against my ear, repeating the same apology over and over, each one getting more anguished. The ocean begged me to wake up, to open my eyes, but didn’t it know how much it would sting if I did?
My eyes were already full of saltwater. They couldn’t take anymore pain.
So I ignored the voice and sank as deep as I liked, a thought winking in the back of my mind as I drifted under, wondering why the ocean smelled like sweetened sandalwood.
The next time I woke up, I was dry.
And warm.
No…
Hot.
Too hot.
A second skin was sutured to my body by sweat, itching and scratching in weird ways as I started to move. I winced, struggling to shift my shoulders and pretty sure someone had glued my eyelashes down.
It took a stupid amount of time, but I eventually got them open and realized right away why I was so hot. The orange glow shaped like a fluctuating mountain range was hard to miss burning only five or six feet in front of me—which would put me on a floor.
A quick rotation of my eyes confirmed that, yes. Definitely on the floor.
Back at the cabin.
Swaddled in a throw blanket that felt like it was sewn out of children’s yarn.
I clumsily kicked the blanket off, freeing my arms and legs from the scratchy furnace. Stiff pops of air creaked in my bones as I pushed myself up on arms that wobbled, making it no farther than perching on my elbows before needing a breather.
Quiet panting labored in my chest as I looked around the cabin.
The whole place felt softer bathed in an amber glow, shadows of flames dancing along the walls as crackles from the fireplace weaved a circuit of sound around my heavy head.
Normally, I loved the sound of fire.