[Day, one] To Kindle Fire With Snow

I felt it leave me when he made the bargain. Carried it all my life. Made me feel empty. Like someone'd carved out my stomach.

I'd been waiting for the moment - noon on my twenty-fifth birthday, and my bargain'd time would be up and I'd die in flames. I was ready. I'd had my whole life to be ready. My whole life feeling the ember the dealmaker had put in me smoldering in the middle of my soul. 

Then, the clock struck and he was there and Miles, poor sweet dumb Miles stood up and offered himself and the man with tin for eyes took his offer and the fire in me went out.

I had a chance at living. First time in all my life I'd thought I'd see past that moment. So I told him to run and leave me.

So he ran.

---

I grew up in Utopia, Oregon. Once we made a living logging and fishing and mining, but those days are gone. Never really leave a small town when you were born there. Always carry a piece of it in you. Bad luck for me was being born in a long line of folk doomed to die. Every generation one of us was marked to burn. My grandfather was the first one that dodged the burden. Never said why and I never knew how. Til now. 

Explained why Gramma Jean had died so young.

---

Miles was long gone when I finally found the strength to get up. My lungs ached for a cigarette, so I lit one of Miles. I'd have to quit again soon - shit'd kill you. Cried a bit when I realized what I'd done. Tried to call him, but he'd left his phone. Clock said it was six at night, and I went looking for him.

Called our friends (weren't many of them, and less bothered picking up) and hit our usual haunts. 

He was gone. Not a trace of him. 

----

My parents named me Mackenzie. Knew what I was to be when I was born. Uncle Ken had burned the year before. Luck of the draw, I guess.

I hated my name. Still ain't fond of it. Means born in fire. I went by Mac when I felt like being cute. Ken when I was feeling morbid.

Told me my fate when I was thirteen, and it made me stop caring. Showed up to school because they wouldn't let me ditch. Bought me the albums I wanted when they could afford it. Doted on my brother and sister and let me be. I paid them back by staying out late running wild. Dropped out of high school and got myself emancipated when I was seventeen. Moved to the city and got a job waiting tables and found music. Dated a lot of fucked up punks and junkies. Treated my life like a smoke - one long drag of as many good times as I could get in before it all cut short. Maxxed out credit cards and spent my weekends out of my head on whatever I got my hands on. I didn't fear a goddamn thing.

Settled a bit when I hit twenty three. Gave normal living a try for awhile. Got promoted at work. Cleaned up. Coming down to my last months, and a dear friend of mine (one who owed me a favor) introduced me to Miles. I told him I didn't have long left, but he stayed.

Stayed til the last moment, then took the burden from me. Took my purpose and my fate. Everything I'd done for the past ten years suddenly mattered. Mattered that I didn't have a job and rent was coming due in a week and that I had a smokers hacking cough. 

Made me wonder what kind of gift he'd given me. Wasn't sure if I wanted to live. Wasn't sure I wanted to let him die.

---

In the end I found him by the smell of smoke. It was midnight, and Miles had burned. The building was an inferno. I stood and wept and knew my lover was dead and I would live. Crowd was gathering and sirens were screaming deep in the night. 

He'd taken a lot of people with him when he'd died. Couldn't have known what was happening to him. Wasn't his fault. Mine, then. My fate pressed on him.

I ran. Swear I could feel the flames from the burning bar, nipping at my heels.

---

His phone was ringing when I got home. Vibrating. The number was blocked. I took a deep breath and picked up.

"Hello?" I said.

"Mac." Miles said. "I burn."

                      

Her Name Is Calla - The White And The Skin