Soul of Flames

On the edge of the reality we know, there exists a pathway that conceals a realm far more extraordinary than any have dared to imagine. In this realm, a war is raging. And one girl is at the centre of it all. Yet, to fight the suffering, she must learn to accept a heritage that could send the life she knows up in flames. One way or another, she is about to discover that, sometimes, giving yourself to the flames can unlock your soul...

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7. Chapter 6-Robyn

I start, jumping up from the bed to land on my feet in a crouch, facing the shadowed figure that lurks behind me. All I can tell is that it is a tall, lean man. And he has something clutched in his hands.

I tense and am about to leap for cover behind the metal headboard of the bed, when the shadow speaks.

‘Ah, good to see your reflexes are all in order. Very quick ones too. That is a good sign.’

The voice that emanates towards me is deep and rich; a melodious cadence that immediately calms my shock and relaxes my muscles.  It soothes me, almost quietening the thoughts in my head that haven’t stopped for years.

More than anything, I want to give in, to lose myself to his words. Gradually I edge forward, my eyelids falling shut against my will. My bare feet drag along the cold hospital floor, slipping over the small dents and hollows buried in it.

I can sense the man’s presence in front of me. I am so close, nearly able to touch him, and I stretch out one hand in front of me, leaning forward ever so slightly and reaching as far as I can.

Until I slam my big toe into the corner of the metal bed and trip forward. I brace myself for the impact of my face hitting the linoleum, scrunching my eyes. But it never comes.

Slowly I open my eyes and see the dirty grey floor splattered with spots of dirt and grit from who knows where. My close up view of the delightful surface recedes suddenly as I am pulled upright by strong hands.

As I am standing I see a long white coat, much like a lab coat, and a name badge: Dr A. Smith. Well, at least I’ve found the doctor.

Once I’m upright I glance up into the face of Dr Smith who caught me and find myself looking at a man who must be in his late twenties, though I can’t be sure; although his complexion is youthful, his hair is various shades of silver, and his eyes contain a deep wisdom that implies years of experience and knowledge.

And right now those eyes are staring at me with an amused glint, like their owner is trying very hard not to laugh.

I blush and look down at my feet, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Way to go, Robyn, I think. Get a compliment on your reflexes, and then almost fall flat on your face tripping over a bed. I sigh. Irony really has it in for me.

Dr Smith speaks again, ‘Maybe you should climb back into bed. While your reflexes are excellent, your co-ordination still appears to be a little lacking.’

I flinch away upon hearing his voice, expecting to be lured back into a daze. But nothing happens; the pain must have startled me out of his trap. Wanting to test my theory, I try and think of a question to ask.

A whole hoard of questions flood to the front of my mind, many of them stupid and inconsequential; merely my curiosity taking control. However, there is one question that floats up that I suddenly find a need to ask: what are you?

I’m about to voice it, when my common sense kicks in and I realise how rude I would sound. I’ve already given a bad impression, with my strange draw to him and horrendous co-ordination (which, looking back, may have been a gift in that moment), and I don’t want to make it worse.

Quickly, to cover up my blunder, I alter the question and then blurt it out in a hurried half-shout.

‘Who are you?’

Dr Smith looks at me for a minute as if he is not quite sure how to react, which immediately strikes me as strange. Surely he has been trained for this?

Finally he smiles at me, his eyes crinkling at the edges along his laughter lines. He gently places a hand on my arm and guides me back to the bed. I sit on the edge of it with my feet dangling a couple of inches above the floor, like a child.

‘Well, I’m the doctor, of course. I’ve been taking care of the injuries that you sustained when a pile of boxes fell on you,’ he peers closely at me, inspecting my head. ‘I fear you may have a mild concussion. Do you remember what happened?’

In another situation I would make a reference to him being Doctor Who, but I had a feeling that this wasn’t the right time. Instead, I tell him the last thing I can remember.

‘Me and Cherri went into the store room to look for some scripts. I remember the room being full of piles of boxes, all stacked precariously, nearly to the ceiling. I-’

I pause, remembering the shadow I glimpsed in the corner of the room just before the boxes fell. None of my instincts are warning me against telling him, yet I don’t quite trust him. Having a voice that takes away your free will doesn’t really put someone in the best light.

I edit that bit out of my story and go straight to the falling boxes. ‘I just started to turn around and, out of the corner of my eye, saw a pile of boxes next to where Cherri was standing wobble and start to fall.’

‘I didn’t think about what I was going to do. I just ran over and pushed her out of the way, but I guess I didn’t get out of the way in time before they fell on me.’

 Dr Smith, who was busy making notes on a clipboard, asks, ‘And is that the last thing you remember?’

I hesitate, wondering whether to tell him about the fire. But what if it was just a delusion brought on by my fear?

‘That’s the last thing I remember,’ I confirm.

He nods slowly, mumbling to himself. At last he puts the clipboard away and looks at me.

‘Well Miss Oakbow, it appears that you are perfectly fine. The lack of oxygen under the boxes must have made you lose consciousness, resulting in your memory loss.’ He smiles at me. ‘You’ll be fine to go home today.’

My happiness at not having a concussion vanishes, and my heart sinks. I was hoping I’d be able to avoid my family for a while longer.

The doctor notices, ‘Is anything wrong? Any aches or pains?’

‘No,’ I shake my head, ‘Nothing hurts’.

‘Good. I’ll go and call your parents and tell them you’re free to go. Please wait here until they arrive.’

I nod, then watch him walk out of the room. I sigh and settle back against the pillow, waiting for my dreaded family to turn up and drag me out of here.

 

***

 

There you go, there's finally a new chapter! Yay! XD So, I just thought I'd let you know that when I was writing chapter 5 I wrote in another scene, but it made the chapter too long and I had to edit it out :'(

However, if you want to read the full version of the chapter, you can go to my profile on Wattpad and read it there!

Link --> http://www.wattpad.com/user/Saffyre

In case you're wondering why there are only half as many chapters there as here, I have a reason! Each chapter on there (excluding the prologue) is two of the chapters on here. This makes them full length chapters. So chapter 5 on here is chapter 3 on Wattpad.

Actually, chapter 5 is a whole chapter on Wattpad because I cut the scene out... so if you want to read that scene, read chapter 3 on my Wattpad profile! 

They're are like that on Wattpad because the format of the pages is better, and stops the page from becoming too long, unlike here.

I hope you enjoy the chapter! Xx

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