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I spot one of the firemen and approach him. “Excuse me. We live in the apartment. Can someone please tell us what is going on? We have the right to know.” I try to be as polite as possible because it isn’t his fault, but someone needs to tell us something.
“Yes. We are still trying to find the cause of the fire, but we got to it on time, so it is mostly smoke and some minor structural damage. It broke out on the second floor from apartments 2A-2D. Luckily no one was hurt,” he answers.
A loud cry falls from my lips, the tears that were welling in my eyes now run down my cheeks. 2C is my place. At least no one was hurt in the fire, but it is my home.
“So, what happens now? Where are people supposed to stay? When can we check our things?” I sob. And there was me thinking things couldn’t get any worse.
“We have cleared most of the floors except one and two. The police need to investigate the cause of the fire. I am not sure when residents will be able to return to their property and make sure it is safe to stay in. Do you have any family or friends you can stay with, ma’am?” he asks. I shake my head.
I have friends, yes, but not ones I would ask if I could stay with them, and I have no family. “Do you have money for a hotel? If not we can get a voucher arranged for one of the motels close by until you are able to sort something out,” he suggests.
I have a little money saved. It will get me a room at one of the cheap and seedy motels for a week. “Yes, I have a little money.” I sigh. I don’t want them using vouchers on me because I know there are people in my building worse off than I am.
“Someone will be in touch with you all,” he says.
I thank him, returning to where Margaret and James are, but they aren’t alone now. A lot of the neighbours have gathered. I tell them the information.
“I will call our daughter. We can stay with her. What about you, sweetie?” Margaret asks.
“Don’t worry about me. I will be fine. You call your daughter, get her to come straight away, there is no need for you to stand out here for too long. We will be contacted when they know more.” I smile reassuringly at her.
Thankfully most of the tenants who can’t get back in have places to go and people to stay with except the odd few. I am ready to have a breakdown, but I shall wait until I am alone to do that because my main focus is making sure my neighbours are okay since many of them are elderly and vulnerable.
* * *
It’s three o’clock in the morning and I have arrived at the motel. Luckily it has twenty-four-hour reception or I would have been sleeping on the street tonight. I quickly lock my door and close all the curtains. This area is common for prostitution and drug deals, so I will be on edge every night I am here.
The room is basic, the walls are painted white with a cheap grey carpet. There’s horrible cheap floral bedding on the hard bed, think of vomited dark red roses. A small dresser is next to the bed, it’s not like I have anything to put into them. A bathroom is attached. It is tiny, you can barely move, but it has a shower and toilet, so I guess it is something. I am exhausted but I doubt if I will get any sleep.
I climb into the bed and plug my cell charger in. Thankfully I keep a spare one in my bag. It’s not like I have anyone to call. I check to see if there were any messages, but there’s nothing.
I lie down and let myself cry. I feel mentally and physically drained. It is times like these I wish I had someone who could come over and just hold me. Being here alone after everything that happened reminds me how alone I am.
I have no idea what I am going to do because I can’t afford to replace everything in my apartment. I don’t know what to expect until I can get back in.
There is one person I could reach out to, but I refuse to do that, especially at this time of the morning. I am sure Ezra would come over if I asked, but I can’t. I have ignored him for days, it would be unfair, plus he may be with Bella.
I will be fine. I have been through worse times in my life. When your mother passes away when you are ten and your father couldn’t care less about you, you have no choice but to take care of yourself. I need a plan, maybe get a second job, earn some extra cash. I don’t know how I will find the time, but it may be my only choice.
I need to get out of my head. I lie here, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore all the noise outside. I am scared but I can defend myself if I need to. I close my eyes trying to think happy thoughts. With any luck my brain will eventually close off due to exhaustion and I will sleep. Not like tomorrow is going to be any better, but I can worry about that tomorrow.
I hear shouting outside. I hate it when people are fighting. When I was a kid my parents did it all the time. I used to hide in the closet and cover my ears. To this day I still can’t stand it. I rummage through my bag, frantically searching for my earphones. Relief fills me when I find them. I quickly put them in, and play music from my phone to drown the noise out.
It is going to be a long night.
I’ve beenin a shitty mood for the last week because Alana’s ghosting me. The first couple of days I was fine. I tried to tell myself it is her loss, and it didn’t bother me, but after a while I realized, it was getting to me more than it should’ve. I tried everything I could to talk myself out of showing up at her apartment, yet somehow, I’m on my way to her place. She is going to think I’m a crazy stalker. I can’t help myself. Something draws me to her, a force I can’t explain.
I thought what was between us was completely sexual since I’m craving every inch of her, but there’s more to it. A part of me just wants to spend more time with her, like how we were at the park last week.
I turn onto her street, and the first thing I see is a fire truck and a cop car right outside of her building. Sudden panic takes over me. I ditch my car in the middle of the road and rush over. I try to enter the building, but someone in uniform stops me. The smell of smoke lingers from the building.
“Do you live in the building, sir?” he asks.
“No, but I need to get inside,” I reply, trying to make my way around him.
He puts his arm out, stopping me from going any further. “Unless you are a tenant or have a family member who stays in the building, we can’t allow you access,” he says firmly.
I need to think of something quick. “My girlfriend lives here. She is on the second floor, in apartment 2C. Please, I need to know what happened and if she is okay,” I beg. I’m rather pleased with my brilliance to think up something plausible.
