It's Not Arson if the World's on Fire

It’s Not Arson if the World’s on Fire

...

Neighbor

Police officer

Investigator

Fire and Arson investigator

Criminal psychiatrist

Protagonist/ Antagonist

…

He had been staring down an empty page at his desk when the first match hit the window.

He looked out the window and saw a large, furious mob.

He had just sat down again when the bomb went through the door.

He walked over to it and picked it up, seeing through its reflection the mob jeering and screaming.

He had strode to the broken door when the flames finally crept high enough to see from the edge of the city.

He looked through the hole in the door that was now pouring out smoke and saw that the mob was of himself.

—

“Sir? I asked you a question.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry.”

“It’s ok. So, when did you first light the match?”

“I don’t know! I just looked down and saw it was on fire.”

“When did you walk outside?”

“What? I never even opened the door.”

“Sir, we have witnesses that say you were out front with a pack of matches in your hand.”

“Well, I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”

“That’s ok. When did you first think about arson?”

“Arson? I never committed arson! I’ve never had a destructive thought! What’s this about arson?”

“Sir, you burned down your own house and the house directly to the right of yours.”

“What? No! I did no such thing!”

—

He stood beneath the familiar window and tossed the first lit match. Bullseye.

He struck another match, held it to the fuse, and threw as hard as he could to the bright blue door.

He held the open container as he strode around the house, flames bursting into life behind him.

—

“Why? Why did you feel the need to burn down my house?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Your neighbor, whose house was destroyed by you!”

“Sir, I’m sorry. I have no memory of this. I don’t even know you.”

“You walked outside at 4pm last Monday, holding a box of matches and a bottle of lighter fluid.”

“I don’t own any matches and I used up the last of my lighter fluid last week at the bonfire.”

“That’s not true. I know what I saw with my own two eyes, and I just told you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t burn down your house, you must be mistaken.”

“Well, the authorities have you now. You can rot in jail for all I care.”

“I did nothing to deserve this treatment!”

“Sir, please come with me.”

“Go with the nice cop lady, you —---.”

“Excuse me!”

“Now, sir!”

“Yes, yes, I’m coming. Where are we going?”

“You are going to testify what happened to an investigator.”

“But I did nothing!”

“You destroyed two houses, one of which was your own.”

“I would never do such a thing!”

—

He watched from a distance as the flames grew, large enough to see from the edge of the city.

Why wouldn’t they be so large? Two whole, two story houses were on fire.

He did that. What a beautiful sight.

He sighed in contentment.

—

“Just tell me exactly what happened at 3pm last Monday. That’s all I need to know.”

“I got home from work around 3:30pm, parked my car, and went inside.”

“Yes, yes, that’s right.”

“Then I made dinner and watched a movie.”

“For how long did you make dinner?”

“Umm . . . about half an hour?”

“So, from 3:30 to 4 you were cooking?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“What after that?”

“I sat on my couch and watched a movie.”

“What movie?”

“Umm . . . something with a lot of shouting and fire. I don’t remember the name of it . . . “

“Ok, ok. You’re sure you stayed inside for the whole time?”

“I think so . . .”

—

He pulled open the door, fidgety and anxious to get started.

The flames grew and grew, and he calmly walked back into the house.

The flames grew and grew, and he struggled to open the door to leave, the smoke strangling him.

The flames grew and grew, and he sat still in the middle of the kitchen, cold spaghetti and matches in his hands.

—

“Sir, please stand up. You have been arrested for intentional arson against an anonymous person and yourself. Do not resist.”

“What?!”

“You heard me. You are sentenced to 10 years jail time.”

“I have done nothing to deserve that! What’s this about?!”

“Please just stand up so we can get this over with.”

“Show me the evidence against me!”

“Fine. Second door to your right, they are waiting for you with the video.”

“What video?”

“The video recorded from the street light of you setting fire to 2 houses.”

—

After fueling the first, he walked to the next house over and poured lighter fluid over all the yard.

He watched the don of the mob of himself pull out and strike a match from the clogged window.

It lit with a satisfying zwoosh sound.

It lit quickly and soundlessly, and burnt the don’s hand.

He dropped it slowly.

He let go and it fell immediately.

The flames licked up against his shins.

The flames grew taller than the mob within seconds.

He walked away silently.

The mob disappeared into the nearby forest.

—

“I never did any of that! I don’t even own matches or lighter fluid!”

“Not anymore at least.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“All of your possessions have either gone up in flames or been secured by the police.”

“Secured? For what and by who?”

“By whom, and me, in answer to your question.”

“This is the chief fire and arson investigator.”

“Why do you have my things?”

“Evidence against you, of course.”

“I never did anything that would require evidence!”

“All of the evidence claims otherwise.”

“Show me the evidence!”

“It’s ok, he does have a right to see the claims against him.”

“Now do you believe me?”

“That . . . that wasn’t me. I don’t remember any of that.”

“Are you sure? That movie you watched, are you sure it was just a movie?”

“Yes!”

“Really?”

“No. Maybe? I don’t know!”

“All the evidence points to you being —”

“I’ll tell the criminal his charges, thank you very much.”

“Alright.”

“You are hereby charged with committing arson against an anonymous person and yourself.”

“Who?”

“She just told you.”

“Oh, and you’ve been diagnosed with selective amnesia.”

“Who are . . . “

“This is the criminal psychologist assigned to your case.”

“Hello.”

“Hi. And hello to the both of you as well.”

“I haven’t ever seen you, how do you figure I have . . . whatever it was you said I have.”

“I reviewed the evidence, your testimony, and the victim’s testimony.”

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“Based on what you said happened and what really happened, I can gather that your brain didn’t grasp what you did.”

“And so you forgot.”

“Sir! Please leave. You have done your job thoroughly.”

“But he is correct.”

“Wh- I didn’t just forget an entire evening!”

“We believe you did. You have no memory of leaving the house at all, but we have a recording of you doing just that.”

“Well . . . ok. But that wasn’t me!”

“Something else possessed you and committed arson through you?”

“Well- yeah!”

“Have you been diagnosed with any kind of mental disorder?”

“No. Why?”

“You might have schizophrenia.”

“Which would explain the confusing memories.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I don’t have schizophrenia!”

“You most likely do. Do you ever have hallucinations or delusions?”

“Sometimes. Not often. I thought that was normal?”

“No.”

“I’m informally diagnosing you with schizophrenia, for the time being, until we can have an actual screening.”

“Is it official?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“Do you think he could claim insanity?”

“What? I’m not insane!”

“It depends on if the diagnosis is official and reasonable.”

“What does that mean?”

“If the psychologist here makes an official diagnosis of schizophrenia, your sentence can be lightened.”

“Then do it! Whoever committed the crime wasn’t the real me, who’d be the one in jail.”

“I think I can make it work.”

“If you can, his sentence can be shortened to 3-5 years.”

“I’m right here, why are you not talking to me?”

“The interrogator isn’t allowed to speak directly to the imprisoned convicts.”

“Not after the original testimony.”

“I’m not a criminal!”

“You are in his book.”

“What’s this about him not being a criminal?”

“I thought I told you to leave.”

“Hold on. Do you have any evidence against the diagnosis?”

“Are you trying to get me imprisoned?”

“Hush. He’s against your case, remember? He’s the chief fire —”

“And arson investigator. That is true, but I have no solid evidence.”

“Then why are you here?”

“He just wanted to be near me.”

“Really? Should we report this?”

“Officer, please just take the criminal to his cell for the time being.”

“I thought I had schizophrenia? Now I’m normal?”

“You do have schizophrenia, it’s just not enough to let you go.”

“This way, sir.”