MISC: Correspondence With The Goddess #5: That Girl is on Fire

[mrnelson007 at gmail.com]

Blah blah blah, usual details.  Go to http://goddesscorrespondence.tumblr.com to get the full story, with the questions and answers, along with character art and other potentially interesting things.  Anyway, enjoy.



Wow.  We've been doing this for a month.  That's hard to believe, huh?  I swear, time seems like it's just flying by lately.  Kind of overwhelming,you know? Making my head spin.  I don't think I've ever been so aware of how quickly things happen.  Kind of ironic considering how much less I'm doing lately...

- Elana

Hello again.  Before we start, I'd like to reiterate something, again. <i>On fire.  ON FUCKING FIRE.</i>  Hurt like hell.  Like super-hell.  <strike>Is super-hell even a place?  I wonder who would go there.</strike>  

Aside from that, well, I've been thinking again about why I'm doing this. I mean, yes, Elana asked me. But it is more than that, because there are a lot of things she asks me to do that I don't.  She's very needy, I swear.  And, yes, I love her and I want to do what she wants, most of the time, because I want her to be happy in spite of the circumstances. But really, it's been bugging me a little bit.  Why am I doing this?  I mean, this specifically.  Talking about everything that happened to me like I really think you're going to have a pity-fest against the most powerful being in existence.  Woe is me, my life is awful, waaaaaah.  Yeah, right.  I don't need your pity, and I don't deserve it. So then, what's the point?  I honestly don't know. It's kind of cathartic, sure, but I wouldn't be posting it if that's all I wanted, I could just save it and walk away.  There's something else here, something deeper.  I'm going to have to ponder this for a while.  

Ah well, enough about that.  Now that that's been established, I'll just get right to it before I waste any more time.

After that terrifying incident, I woke up in the hospital.  Well, alright, I was already there, but I was back in my room instead of in that machine still.  That was a relief, albeit a temporary one.  Temporary because I realized how much I hurt.  My whole body ached, and as I lifted my hand, I saw the shiny, sunken skin, the telltale sign of scar tissue.  "Fuck..."

I tried to sit up, wincing as the pain stabbed through me. "OW!" Moving the sheet, I saw more of the same scarring.  My whole right side was covered in it, all the way down from my arm to just above my ankle.  The left side was better, with the damage only extending down to around my stomach. Still, I was more scar than person at that point. "Are you shitting me?" I said, groaning and rubbing my forehead with my good hand.

"Well, at least you're alive." Elana smiled, reaching over and squeezing my hand gently. "And you're actually looking pretty good for how badly you burned, they said.  Thank God."

"Yeah, yeah.  I know you mean well and all with that, sis, but right now God can fuck off for all I care.  Not sure what's supposed to get me so thankful here."

Elana let out a sigh, and I could tell she was biting her tongue on the matter.  She had always been fairly religious. She always used to say church helped her focus, whatever the hell that means.  I never got that, I always felt uncomfortable sitting there as a kid. No, more than that. Church always seemed full of... hmm. Not sure what the word I'm looking for is.  Almost dread.  Like I wasn't welcome there.  If God was out there, pretty sure He could tell that I wasn't falling for his shit.  First thing I did after the divorce was tell dad I was never going back there.

"Well, you're okay. That's all that matters, regardless of how. Can we at least agree on that?" She was frowning a little as she looked down at me, but she still held my hand gently.

"Yeah, sure, El.  I'm okay. I just hurt like hell."

"So what happened, anyway?"

"I have no idea! Just... all of a sudden I'm burning up, literally!" I started to move my arms for emphasis, but that hurt way too much so I brought them back down with a wince.  "I mean, I couldn't move, and it was pitch black!  I honestly have no idea what could have happened! It was like..." I paused, thinking back for a second. "Well, I... OK, this is honestly going to sound completely nuts, and I know that, but... right before it happened I was thinking about fire. I think <i>maybe</i> that I accidentally set myself on fire somehow."  God, it sounded so stupid when I said it out loud.  Because it was.  <i>Ugh, I am so dumb. Seriously? Set yourself on fire?  That is the stupidest thing.  Why would you ever admit that to anyone? Elana is the one that believes in God and stuff, so maybe she'll buy it, but... magic isn't real, moron.</i>

"You... set yourself on fire?" Her tone made it clear that she didn't find it any more plausible than I did. "Somehow I really don't think that actually happened."

"You could just humor me and pretend to believe, you know." I grumbled, but she was right. Setting myself on fire like that?  What the hell was I thinking?

The sound of the door opening made me jump a little, wincing as my scarred skin protested the action. "DAMMIT! FUUU-!" I  bit down on my tongue to calm myself down. <i>Son of a BITCH this hurts...</i>

"Hello again, Lydia. Do you remember me?" I turned my head, and I let out a sigh at the sight. <i>Oh joy, Doctor Asshole is back.  Just what I wanted.</i>  "I'm Doctor Wallowitz, I spoke with you earlier, before the... incident?  How are you feeling?"

"So doc, do you like feed off stupid questions or something? Because I feel horrible, how the fuck else would I feel?" Once again I made the mistake of moving my arms for emphasis, and immediately I regretted it.

"Please, relax.  Don't want to make things any worse than they already are."  He walked around, sitting down at the foot of the bed and pulling his pen out again. "And they're not that bad honestly. Better than we expected, at least.  You're healing rather fast. You could call it a miracle, if you believe in those things."

"I don't."

"Yes, well... Anyway. Can you explain what happened?"

"What do you mean 'explain'? I'm the victim here!  Do you walk up to a corpse and demand it explain how it died?" I huffed.

"Well, I mean, you kind of do with forensics and-"

"Not helping, El!"I sighed. "Look, what am I supposed to tell you here, doc? I was on fire, and it hurt. A lot.  And now I look like I barely escaped from the cannibal firepit."

"Easy, easy. Just relax." The doctor sighed and shook his head, and I was pretty sure there was frustration there.  <i>Fuck you too, doc.</i>  "The thing is, there wasn't anything inside there that could have done that.  Everything inside looked fine.  So what we need to figure out is how the fire got started?"  The look he gave me was the sort that made it clear where his suspicions lied.

"Wait. You think I did it?" I asked, giving him my best glare.

"I never said that. Why would you jump to that conclusion unless you have a guilty conscience?"

"Because it's obvious just from looking at you.  You're giving me that 'confess you animal!' look that they do in those shitty police dramas.  I didn't do anything, okay? How could I have? I didn't <i>have</i> anything to do it with?"  Of course, the fact that I was trying to convince Elana that I had just done exactly that was not forgotten.  But, there was something about this guy.  He just rubbed me the wrong way, and I wasn't going to let him think anything was going on.  I didn't trust him at all.  I wasn't going to tell anyone other than Elana something like that.  Getting locked up in the loony bin was the absolute worst thing I could think of.  Sure, they weren't the old 19th-century Sanitariums that apparently ran on the screams of terrified children, but that still seemed far worse than anything else.  <strike>Well, no, maybe not prison. Hm.</strike>  Anyway, point is, it would suck a lot.

"Lydia, please answer me honestly.  Before the recent event, did you ever feel the urge to set fires  anywhere?  At home, maybe in your backyard?  Or in trash cans at school or something?" He tapped that pen against the notebook again.

"What are you implying?  You think I'm some kind of pyromaniac?  I really, really do not set fires, okay? I get it. 'Ooh, look at her, she's weird, she looks like she's depressed, I bet she slits her wrists and sets fire to her school'.  Like hell. How could I? It's not like I'm smuggling a lighter up my goddamn-"

"Right, I think that's enough of that." The doctor cut me off, sighing and standing up. "I can see that I'm not going to get anywhere here." He turned away from me, pulling a card out and handing it to Elana. "If she has any more suicidal thoughts, feel free to call me. I can get her a referral to a good friend of mine. She's a psychiatrist who specializes in younger adults like her."

"Dammit, doc, I'm not suicidal, you fucking asshole!" I screamed at him, but he was ignoring me, just heading out the door.  "Just toss that card out, I never want to talk to that prick again."

Meanwhile, Elana looked down at the card, frowning a little. "You know he's just trying to help.  He's just worried about you after what happened. But, yeah, his bedside manner was pretty awful."Still, she pocketed the card, shrugging. "You never know, right?"

"...fine, I guess." I let out a sigh, trying hard not to move... and then screaming again.  "Augh FUCK! If there's anything that's going to make me kill myself it's all this.  Ugh. I need some serious pain pills to get through this."

"I'll get the nurse." Elana smiled, getting up and leaving the room.  <i>Damn, I am so lucky to have her as my sister.  I mean, honestly... I don't deserve someone like her.  Good thing we're family. She can't just walk out on me, heh...</i>

After that, well, the rest of the hospital stay was uneventful.  They made a few more comments about how I was healing remarkably well, which I suppose was true.  They only made me stay a couple of nights before sending me home to recover.  Fine by me. I would much rather be a lazy ass on my own bed than in some sterile hospital room.  It had been a horrible experience, but I was getting out of there, and things had to be looking up, right?

You know, come to think of it, they never did check me for that tumor again. That's some piss-poor doctoring right there.

- Lydia