A fire disaster

It prevailed a frenzied dawning the subsequent day. Rays of the sunlight gleaming through the blinds of Logan's bedroom was causing him to stir. He groaned when the first beam of sunlight hit his face. Last night, I tugged Logan off the sofa. I grasped him and I let him lean on me as I trudged to his bedroom. I dropped him gently on his bed. His bed sits on a beige carpet that covers the whole room. I grasped a dark blue fuzzy blanket and draped it around him.

I lurched a bit, I was feeling drowsy, I was dazed. I tried to edge away from Logan's bed and I plummeted on his bed. Feeling the comfy blanket nuzzling me I felt relaxed I fell asleep besides Logan.

Logan unhurriedly opened his eyes and he glanced up at the ceiling. The ceiling seemed familiar and it dawned on him that he is in his bedroom. He attempted to sit up and he paused as he senses a throbbing pain in his arm he let out an audible groan. He tossed and he felt startled seeing me lying beside him.

"What's she doing here?" Suddenly, images of him getting stabbed in his arm flashed through his mind and he broke out of his thoughts. He stared at my face, he flung the strands of my raven hair off my cheek and he glanced at my chubby cheeks.

"Hey miss, " he tapped me on my arm, "hey." He spoke with a gentle voice and it jerked me from my sleep. I widely opened my eyes and I got embarrassed realizing I am on his bed. I sat up, "how are you?"

I noticed his eyes staring down at the shirt on me. Does he already recognize I am wearing his shirt? I felt unrelaxed as he wouldn't quit staring, "yes this is your shirt. I couldn't go home so I couldn't change cause I had to tend to you and cause you know, that pervert goon tore my blouse. Please lend me your shirt."

He let out a chuckle, "well you're already wearing it. My name's Logan."

"I already know that I saw your ID. My name's Margaret."

"How're you holding up after last night? Could you sleep well? Did you have nightmares? I'm sorry that happened to you."

"How can you still be worried about me when it's you who's seriously hurt? I feared that you'll die. Why did you risk your life for a total stranger? What if you died?"

He stroked my cheek, "I'm glad you survived. That you're alright." Tears welled in his eyes. I slapped his arm playfully noticing tears trickling on his cheeks, "don't act emotional. Look at me I'm okay."

Logan looked deeply into my eyes and I stared into his. I saw a reflection of grief in his eyes. He stroke my cheek, "no I really do mean it. I am glad that you're alright. That I succeeded in rescuing you. I'm glad that you made it and that I did my best."

"You don't have to take my wellbeing seriously it's not your fault I got attacked or molested you don't necessarily have to be glad that I survived. It's okay."

"No you don't understand, " he sniffed and tears threatened to obscure his vision, "You could've died. I could've failed to protect you. Anything bad could have happened to you."

"Well I am not your responsibility. If I didn't make it, it wouldn't be your fault."

Logan's hands twitched and he felt a lump in his throat, "I'm glad I was able to protect you. You see, my wife Mia was right in front of me but I couldn't do anything to rescue her. Even if I failed to save her life, I'm glad I was able to save yours. And that, you're not hurt anywhere."

For many months, Logan has always feel like a loser, he feels incomplete and feels some emptiness in his chest. A heavy guilt weighs on his chest when he get reminded of Mia's death. He mourns her death each day almost as if she died yesterday. He has an urn of Mia's decomposed corpse. He holds it each day and weeps on it.

It was an awful experience! A gruelsome fire swarmed his home on 20th April. It was a horrendous night he can never forget even if he has amnesia. Who can forget such a horrifying night? Who would want to experience such awful night too?

Logan returned home from a grocery store in the icy blustery night. His eyes broadened awestricken at the sight of a huge fire streaming on the walls. He trot inside the sittingroom. "Mia!" He screeched and he felt petrified by the sight of a luminous fire which crawled on the walls like a lizard. The chairs were tumbled and were bowing on the floor, he noticed fire goring into them and the chairs depleting. He glanced at the TV lying lopsided on the floor with fire gleaming on it and he guessed it was pushed down as the fire was whacking the walls.