Burn It All

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. My mousy brown hair replaced with flickering, orange flames that whipped and roared around my reflection’s head. Puckered scars covered the face in the mirror, and broken teeth could be seen where her mouth had melted away. Her nude body was charred and cracked open like a shell, allowing a vermilion glow to be seen through the fissures. She remained motionless, but for the fire dancing around her head, and the glimmer of firestorm beneath her skin. I sensed a stirring in my soul, and I knew that this monstrosity was me. Her forest green eyes were identical to mine.

I peered deeper into the mirror, beyond the frightening reflection, and I beheld a world of fire and turmoil. A river of lava swelled, undulating over hills, igniting everything in its path. Trees were ablaze, their spindly branches quivering in the heat, sending sparks flying through the air. Fire rained down from a lightning filled sky, and plummeted to a landscape of thick gray ash.

I stared at my reflection, entranced, as she opened her mouth in a silent scream, flames spilling out like liquid. Ruby red magma streamed from the corners of her eyes, flowing in rivulets through the cratered scars on her cheeks.

I leapt back instinctively, tearing my gaze away from the mirror. Violent trembles racked my body, and cold sweat dripped down the back of my neck, as I crouched by the bedroom door in the darkness.

I heard my husband, Seth, tossing in bed, and the fear of him mingled with the fear of the flame woman. My vision blurred at the edges, and the room closed in around me. I had to snap out of the panic, or I would lose consciousness, and I wouldn’t be able to protect myself from Seth or the inferno that threatened to surge from the mirror.

“I’m crazy, I’m crazy, I’m crazy,” I muttered repeatedly, quaking with terror. What I had just seen was impossible. I convinced myself that Seth had finally sent me over the edge, and my psyche was fracturing. I struggled to keep my breathing regular, counting as I inhaled and then exhaled.

Gradually my vision cleared, and I began to calm.

Being married to Seth was a constant barrage of abuse. The humiliation, degradation, and control were worse than the bruises, black eyes, and splintered bones. Seth could make me feel like I was wholly worthless, like every thought I gave voice to was vacuous. To him, I existed only to be used as an outlet for his rage.

Shivering, I hazarded a glance at my reflection in the tall, gold-framed mirror. It was me again… just normal me. The broken and burning woman overcome with fury had vanished. I was back to my hollow, empty, melancholy, and docile self. This was the self that kept me safest. The me inside of the mirror made my flesh creep, like tiny spiders scurrying under my skin, but at the same time, I envied something in her eyes. She possessed an inner strength and determination that I ached to obtain.

I rose from my cowering huddle in the corner, and tip-toed over to the bed. If Seth woke and found me up, he would suspect something. The last black eye he had given me was starting to fade, now a sickly, pale-yellow color. I didn’t want to have to wait another two weeks to go outside of the house if he bruised me again. I missed the feeling of the sun on my skin. The evidence of my shame and of his evil ways didn’t belong where the neighbors could see.

I slid beneath the scratchy cotton sheet as quietly as I could. I had my head on my pillow and was settling under the blankets when Seth turned and whispered sleepily in an accusing tone, “Shula?”

“Just changing positions, honey,” I whispered back, trying to make my voice sound tired and keep the tension I felt from creeping into my words.

Seth coughed and rolled back onto his side, facing away from me. I had dreamed of slitting his throat while he slept, but that was only wishful thinking. I could never do something like that. I wasn’t inclined to hurt others like he was. It bothered me if I had to kill a mosquito.

Seth would be leaving the following morning for a job in Kentucky, that was supposed to last through the week. I looked forward to having a full seven days to myself to relax and not have to walk on eggshells around Seth. I planned to sit by the window in a ray of sunshine, watch the daffodils swaying outside, listen to the birds sing, and read.

I just had to make it until morning and then it would be a blissful week. My eyes grew heavy and I drifted into a fitful sleep, dreaming of flames and destruction.

I woke at 4 AM, an hour before Seth would be waking up to get ready for work. I had packed his things for him the night before and stacked it all by the front door. Now, I walked into the bathroom and placed a towel on the shelf for Seth’s shower. I laid his clothes out for the day and placed his socks and shoes by the bed. Then I made my way downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee and cook his breakfast.

I smelled a strong scent of smoke and gasoline when I entered the ill-lit kitchen and my heart skipped a beat, thinking of the flaming woman. With jerky, frantic movements I hurried to flip the light switch. The room was flooded in brightness, but I didn’t see anything that could explain away the assaulting aroma. The acrid odor lingered in my nose as I went about my duties. While the coffee percolated, I mixed pancake batter in a flowered, ceramic bowl and poured it into a pan. When I went to the sink to rinse the bowl, I glimpsed a red gleam at the dark window in front of me. I averted my eyes fast, looking down at the sink, too afraid that I would see my distorted self in the reflection of the window.

I heard a tapping at the window and my head snapped up with a jolt. I locked eyes with the smoldering wraith radiating before me. The flames that surrounded her were now bright white, and her skin was stretching like putty as she melted, but her eyes were ice-cold and hard. “GO. LEAVE. GOOOO NOW,” she pleaded in a deep, raspy moan.

A short, shrill scream escaped my throat, and my body twitched spasmodically. The bowl dropped to the floor and shattered, seeming as loud as a gunshot. The specter extended a hand, white fire licking her skeletal fingers, and the curtains started to smoke. Black holes rimmed with embers covered the delicate lace and spread outward. Then the fire alarm began to blare.

I beat at the curtains with my hands, tried desperately to subdue the fire. I finally managed to extinguish it, but my hands were now enveloped in weeping blisters. I grabbed a step stool, and winced at using my stinging hands. I climbed up and stretched my arm out, yanked the batteries out of the smoke alarm attached to the wall. I checked the window and my reflection was ordinary once again- an exhausted countenance, and a hunched posture. I slumped to the sticky, tile floor. I hugged my knees to my chest, hiding my face between my knees while I sobbed, gulping for breath.

“Oh shit!” I squealed and scrambled to my feet, dashing to the stove. I had forgotten the pancakes and they were burnt black. More choking smoke hovered, causing the air to taste sickly sweet at the back of my throat. I turned the burner off and flung the burnt pancakes into the trash can.

I could hear the shower running upstairs, but even over the sound of water, Seth would have heard the bleating of the smoke alarm, and he would know that I messed up.

I opened the window to air out the smoke, and then began making more batter as fast as I could. I was pouring it into the pan when I heard Seth descending the stairs and making his way to the kitchen table.

“Shit,” I hissed under my breath as tremors shook my body, making my movements erratic.

Seth took a seat at the table, his posture rigid, a scowl on his stony face. He alternated between glaring at Shula and his empty plate for a few seconds before he started shouting, spittle flying from his mouth, “Where the fuck is my breakfast, Shula?”

“I’m so sorry, it’s almost ready,” I tried to placate him.

“What the fuck have you been doing down here all morning?” he growled, an air of suspicion lacing the question.

“Cooking. I burnt the first batch and I had to start over.” I tried to keep the cadence of my speech steady and soothing.

“Well, ain’t you the stupidest bitch?” he sneered.

I kept my back turned, tending to the pancakes.

“Why the fuck is that window open?”

“I was trying to get the burnt pancake smell out,” I answered timidly.

“The god damn curtains are burnt too! What the fuck have you been doing, Shula? You been sneaking men in here? I always knew you were a whore!” he thundered. He stood from the chair so fast that it flew backward and clattered across the floor.

I flinched. “I told you…,” I whimpered, but I didn’t finish my sentence because Seth was already standing next to me, breathing hard, his face beet red, hands balled into fists. I felt ice flowing through my veins, my face paled and I swayed with dizziness. My mouth was so dry I couldn’t swallow, and I felt like I was suffocating.

“No, you don’t tell me, I tell you,” Seth rumbled from deep in his chest as he grabbed my wrist and twisted until the spatula I held fell to the floor, the clanging sound seeming to ricochet around my frightened, chaotic brain.

He removed the pan from the hot eye of the stove and guided the palm of my hand closer to the glowing coils. I wrestled against him, but he was too strong. When my hand made contact I heard the sizzle before I felt any pain. At first it felt cold, but then an intense, stinging throb made me buck, in an attempt to get away. He pressed my hand down harder and I screamed. He mocked my pain and laughed, released my hand, only to grip my chin, angling my face so he could look into my teary eyes.

I heard the grating voice of the woman made of fire. “GET OUT. RUN,” she begged with more urgency than before. I stood frozen in front of Seth, cradling my burnt hand. I was a timid rabbit caught in the sights of a snarling wolf. If I made any sudden movements, the chase would commence, so I didn’t dare budge.

Seth let go of my chin, and before I even realized what he was doing, his fist slammed into my jaw. I felt my teeth shatter and felt pieces of them embedded in my cheek. My brain rattled around in my skull, and the blow sent me stumbling backward. The back of my head connected with the corner of the granite counter top. I bit my tongue hard and tasted blood before I slumped to the floor and lost consciousness.

I came to with an incredible ache in my head and blood pouring from my mouth. I had almost bitten my tongue in half when I had hit the counter top, and now I could feel it flopping around beyond my control as I tried to form words to speak. I was moving, but my legs weren’t. My shoulder throbbed and I tried to move my arm, but couldn’t. Seth was dragging me through the woods by my arms. I heard his grunts of exertion as he yanked my body along. I saw sunlight filtering through the trees above me and felt dirt and pine needles scraping my back.

Seth stopped and stared down at me as I weakly struggled to free myself from his grasp, his eyes blank, portraying no emotion.

Rain pounded to the Earth, coming on suddenly, saturating the ground. I put all of the strength I had left into fighting Seth and was able to slip my arms free, thanks to the rain. I didn’t look back at him as I raced as fast as I could back to the house. I was hysterical and dizzy and I kept slipping on the now wet pine needles. I registered footsteps approaching from behind, splashing on wet earth. I stumbled forward on my hands and knees, and the splashing noise ceased. I saw Seth’s shoes as he stepped in front of me to block my way. Then came another blow to the back of my head and I was incapacitated once more.

The rain had stopped, and I smelled gasoline. I was now lying on a thick bundle of pine branches, the needles tickling my face, twigs poking my body. I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I was paralyzed. Seth sauntered into my line of sight carrying a red, metal gas can. He squatted beside me and looked into my eyes. His face was expressionless. My eyes widened in terror as he poured the last remnants of the can onto my face. I coughed and sputtered.

“All I wanted was to read my book and relax by the window,” I thought to myself. An odd thought to have before dying. I heard the strike of a match, and an all-consuming pain racked my body as I heard the roar of fire all around me. I was in a burning cocoon. I tried to tell my brain to move my legs, but it was impossible. The nerves that sent signals to my limbs were severed. I was helpless and I was going to die. Continuous ragged screams ripped from my throat. It seemed like the pain had already lasted an eternity. Then, blissfully, an absence of pain as I watched the flames licking over my skin. The flames lulled me and quieted my panic. My life didn’t flash before my eyes like they say, but I kept the woman dressed in fire in my mind. I inhaled, allowing the flames to burn me from the inside, and then there was nothing at all.

This time I came to standing beside a gnarled tree and staring at a mound of smoking ashes in a clearing. I smelled cooked meat. I couldn’t remember anything. “Seth is going to be so angry. Did I make his pancakes?” I wondered to myself. “Why am I outside in the woods burning things?”

I bolted to the house. The forest was shrouded in thick gray fog that swirled around me as I ran. I reached the edge of the trees and halted, scouring the driveway for Seth’s truck. It wasn’t there. How strange, he must have left for work already, but he never left if he didn’t know where I was. Not because he was worried about me, but to make sure I was following his rules.

Although I was utterly confused, I felt some relief at finding Seth’s truck gone. I grinned and strode to the front door of the house. The thick fog was here too, engulfing the sodden wooden porch, so thick I couldn’t see my legs.

I reached out to twist the doorknob, but my hand only snatched air. Flummoxed, I tried again, and my hand went through the doorknob. I pushed on the door and my arm disappeared up to my elbow.

I felt unusually peaceful, despite the bewildering situation. I stepped through the solidness of the door and I was standing in the living room. I scrunched up my nose at the smell of bleach that bombarded me.

I glided through the house and noted that everything appeared normal. I suddenly felt drained and I wanted to rest, so I ambled upstairs to the bedroom with the intention of climbing into bed and sleeping off this eerie feeling. I passed the mirror in the corner, and saw that there was no reflection. I went over to stand directly in front of the mirror. I was invisible. I looked down at my body and noticed that my chest wasn’t rising and falling. I placed a palm over my heart and felt nothing there… no beating.

I was wearing my favorite dress from when I was sixteen years old, which I hadn’t seen in over ten years. I twirled and watched, mesmerized, as the white lace swirled around my legs, caressing them.

When I looked back into the mirror, I saw the me that wasn’t really me. The flame woman. She had a wide grin on her face as she placed the palm of her hand against the mirror. Spidery cracks blossomed over the glass, and smoke escaped, reaching for me and then wrapping around me like a cloak. I pressed the palm of my hand on the cracked glass where her hand was. I felt a tingle in my fingers, but my hand did not slip through. A torrent of memories flashed through my mind at lightning speed. I saw the burnt pancakes, Seth dragging me through the woods. I saw the gas can in his hand as he stood over me. Then I felt the pain, and I screamed, reliving it all over again.

Seth had killed me. I was dead. A ghost. He had hauled me into the woods behind the house and burnt my broken body alive. I remembered his eyes, so indifferent; that was the worst part. He didn’t even care. I was trash to him, something annoying that needed to be disposed of.

The woman made of fire stared back at me with sorrow, and more visions wrapped around my brain. I was seeing things that had not happened yet. This was a plan that she was showing me.

“Burn him. Burn it all,” she groaned.

I accepted her plan with eagerness, as if I had come up with the idea myself. I felt no fear, no panic, no sadness, only a spark of fury. It was growing inside of me, threatening to overflow before the time was right. All I had to do was wait for Seth to return home and then I could have release.

I waited the entire week at the bedroom window, watching the foggy swirls in the yard outside. I periodically glanced back at the mirror, and the flame woman was there every time, sneering and waiting with me.

Finally, I saw Seth’s truck approaching the house, the full moon glinting off of the windshield. The sky was clear and the stars were bright. I watched as Seth climbed out of the truck and strutted to the house. The spark inside of me blazed, and I looked down at my chest to see it glowing red. I returned to the mirror and looked at the flame woman. A grin crept to my face for the first time in years as we pressed our palms together. The glass of the mirror shattered and I absorbed the fire into myself. It cradled me in a wrathful warmth.

I heard Seth’s footsteps on the stairs. I gazed down at my body. I was the woman in the mirror now. My arms were burnt and cracked; I was covered in fire. I swayed by the broken mirror and waited for my husband to open the door.

Seth entered lugging a suitcase to the bed. He came to an abrupt stop when he caught sight of the flames out of the corner of his eye. He turned and looked at me, and there was an emotion there now. Terror and dread glimmered in his eyes.

I glided toward him, my head cocked to the side, studying his fear. He backed away until he hit the wall. I threw flames at the bedroom door, so he couldn’t sneak past me and escape. The wood of the door cracked and buckled, the knob was a glowing red coal.

I stopped when I was within six inches of him, still grinning with my bloody, melted mouth, madness in my eyes. He shook violently and blubbered my name over and over, questioning, “Shula? Shula? Shula?”

I extended my fiery fingertips and stroked his face, gently. He yelped and recoiled. I seized his chin in my hand full of flame and made him look me in the eye as the fire licked up his cheeks, melting his skin. He thrashed and I grabbed his throat, pinning him to the wall. Blisters appeared and busted on his face, leaking sticky, yellow liquid that soon evaporated in the heat. His lips crackled like frying bacon, and his screams were now nothing more than a delicate wheeze. I let the flames continue to caress his face, until his eyes made a popping sound and oozed from their sockets.

I released his throat and wrapped my flaming arms around his upper body, holding him there. The fire lent solidity to my ghostly state and made me stronger. I pulled him closer and closer to my flaming body until we became fused together. He made a few small gurgling sounds and then his struggles ceased and ashes of him began to float upward, joining the flames that were twining up the walls.

I held on to him until there was nothing left in my arms, only a small pile of ashes at my feet. I roamed around the bedroom, running my hands along the bed, the curtains, the clothes in the closet, fire igniting everything I touched.

I made my way downstairs, gripping the banister tightly. A procession of fire followed behind me. Once in the living room I sat in the middle of the floor, and held my arms out to my sides. The most guttural, animal, banshee-like shriek that I had ever heard rumbled up my throat as I lifted my head, and fire exploded from my mouth, merging with the ceiling.

Everything around me was burning and I continued screaming until the entire house, and the trees surrounding it were blazing uncontrollably.

Fiery tears of relief cascaded down my face, and I screamed until I no longer had a mouth to scream with. I screamed until I was only ash, not a body anymore, but an essence. My essence flew up and up away from the pain and the blazing inferno, until all I could see was clouds.