Chapter Text
If I have to write a story, I should better start it by the beginning. The problem is that, beginning does not exist, end doesn’t exist as well, they’re just subjective notions that man invented to be able to write stories that make sense. If I had to write a story and start with the real beginning, I should start by the bigbang, and follow every form of life and it’s decent until I can write about a human and then I’ll have to write their life and their child’s life and continue until present day, writing my whole life the last person that would have lived at the same time than I do, finally then, I’ll give my child’s the mission to write about the person’s descendants and my child will give it to their child. This would repeat itself until the human race extinct.
So, to start the story I have to tell today, I’ll start the 2nd December 2018, in Brooklyn.
It was hot, way too hot. Too hot for December, too hot for a room, it would be too hot for the hottest days of the hottest country, James felt sick, his dream was horrible, he was in hell, burning for eternity, he was a good person, he didn’t deserve that ! The boy woke up, panicked, and relieved to not be in hell.
He wasn’t there but the temperature didn’t drop, the flames were here, in his room, burning the flat he grew up in. And with it, photos of his parents, the diary he wrote all his life, his favourite clothes, everything he owned.
He stood up and ran to his grandmother’s bedroom, he opened the door slamming it, he touched her, wanting to wake her up, she screamed in pain, her arm’s skin melting under her grandchild’s touch. A sickening smell of grilled meat filled the room. James, scared took off his hands he looked at the skin on his grandma’s arm, it kept the shape of his hands. Everything went fast, way too fast. The old woman got up understanding the situation. She told him to go warn their neighbours while she tried to save a few things. James listened. Once alone, she ran, took the picture of her son and his wife that was on her desk, put it in a bag with important documents and after taking a jacket and her shoes she got out, only then she realized that she should have been faster, the corridor was filled with a dark smoke that was burning her lungs. She felt dizzy, trying to walk right, she fell.
James was running in the corridors of the building, screaming that there was a fire, people were screaming and going outside, it was a mess, you could hear children crying, animals screaming everywhere, it was loud and obnoxious. James tried to figure out rather everyone was out or not. He was seeing no one anymore so he got out. His grandma was there, passed out in the hands of Mr Smith, their neighbour.
By the time she woke up, police officers, firefighters and ambulance were there.
The policeman asked questions, to every person living in the building. James felt his stomach hurt, it was heavy, the same kind of feeling than when you feel guilty or when you know someone is following you but you can’t tell who they are or where they are.
The first question the policeman asked to him and his legal guardian was “where did the fire started ? Do you know if it was an accident?” The old lady started crying. Since she was sobbing without stopping, James answered. “I don’t know where it started or how it started but I think it might have started in our apartment…” his throat felt way too tight, he was having trouble breathing. Everything was terribly wrong, he couldn’t explain it, it was like seing a mirror of his reality that didn’t reflect things perfectly. The grandmother gently put her hand on his shoulder. “There’s no need to lie anymore mi hijo, everything will be fine but we can’t keep our mouth shut forever… We need to tell him the truth. Mister the officer, it started in our neighbour’s house, he smokes weed every day but he falls asleep before finishing his joint most of the time… I found him sleeping in the stairs or the lifts multiple times. I never said anything and threw away his end of joint every time but there’s nothing I can do for him anymore, he needs rehab. It became dangerous for him but for the whole building too…”
James always admired his grandmother, she was sweet and calm, the kind of person that babysit the kids of her neighbours just because it helps. So seing this lovely woman lying to the police felt uncomfortable, unsettling, it felt like the end of the world, his world.
A thousand thoughts and questions ran into his mind, in a mess like no other.
Louder than everything else was a question that he didn’t want answered : Why would she lie ?
He heard her lie before, each time, it was to protect him ; “I’m fine” “I’m not tired” “you’ve never been a problem” he knew she wasn’t a saint but still.
“Mister, would it be possible for us to go for the night at my son’s ? He lives near the airport, not that far and my grandson needs sleep, he probably won’t go to school tomorrow but I’d like him to go to school again as soon as possible, and as healthy as he can be.”
James’ father was an only child, his mother too, all his life he wished he could have had siblings or cousins. Maybe everything was just a really bad dream. The boy was sweating, he was stressed and afraid. He passed his in his curls, it was a nervous habit he had since childhood.
After a short medical exam and few questions about their identity, the Potters were able to go, James had absolutely no idea where they were going or what was all the lies for but he thanked god that his only was alright, except for the burnt skin that she hid from the doctors.
Nothing felt right, and deep inside, he knew nothing would feel right for a long time.