• He had been wearing a black suit, I remember it well. His platinum hair was tied back into a horse tail. He was wearing a ridiculous bright blue tie that clashed with his yellow green eyes. He had taken me to a small meadow in the forest next to his house. It was a clear night, with a bloody moon. He had taken me out for a midnight picnic. He had brought my favorites with us. There was red wine accompanied by strawberries. There was kiwi and mango, but we never got to taste the delicious fruit. We ran back to his house as soon as we smelt the smoke.
    Someone had set the old two story house on fire. The vines that wrapped around the south side of the house and up the chimney had burnt to a crisp. The Victorian windows were smashed in.
    “My information,” I whimpered feeling an ache in my heart as I saw flames licking out through the shattered glass. The black curtains were in tatters.
    He stepped away from me, towards the building.
    I grabbed his sleeves, wrapping my arms around his right arm. “Wait! Please don’t,” I cried knowing what he planned to do. “I can make new documents! It’s not worth it!” He pulled away from my hold with ease.
    He looked back at me and smiled white his brilliant white teeth. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back, I promise.” Then he disappeared into the flames that tore through the home that his family had lived in for generations.
    I stood there hypnotized by the dancing inferno. I was afraid of the fire, he knew that. I tried to follow him but the embers were carried by the wind and into my eyes. I yelped as they touched my right hand and burned the flesh.
    I pulled back the wind whipping at my skirt I watched the fire, clutching my hand to my chest. My black long sleeved shirt had burn marks on it.
    I remember hearing a scream when the roof fell in. It took me a moment to the scream came from my own mouth.
    I fell to my knees and just watched as the fire burned the building to the ground. I didn’t do anything, paralyzed by my own fear of getting burned.
    The firemen came almost thirty minutes later, much too late. They found his body under a support beam in the study, his arms wrapped around his laptop. His entire body had been completely charred. They said he must have gotten hit and knocked out.
    There was an article in the local paper a week later saying that the fire must have been arson. The authorities never caught the person who did it. For months they blamed me for the fire, but the picnic was still laid out so the accusations stopped after a while.
    All I did was stand there. Why didn’t I follow him.
    I promised myself that night that I would never get close to anyone again, but I’ve broken that vow over and over and paid dearly for it.
    Anytime I get near someone I feel the burns again, though most of the scars are gone. I’m a fool to think that maybe, just maybe, I can care for someone without them paying for it.
    I don’t know what to do anymore. Should I just give into my fears, or should I keep trying?
    What will I do if I loose another loved one. I cant stand it. It hurts too much to think about.
    It was just information, could I have stopped him if I really tried.
    If I had gone in with him could I have saved him.