Fireproof

Aidan was completely unaware his house had burnt down with him in it, until he awoke and found himself in a hospital bed surrounded by his anxious parents.
His mother was clutching his hand, her face was ashen, drained of life. His father was standing behind her resting his hands on his mother's shoulders. A shadow of stuble covered his chin. It wasn't like him to be unshaven.
"How ya doin', kid?" his father said.
A weary, listless smile drew on his face. "Okay, I think," Aidan replied before taking stock of his surroundings. Full hospital beds, plastic chairs, floral curtains drawn, nurses padding up and down carrying clipboards and trays of medicine. "What happened? Why am I here?"
His mother looked away, resting her head on her shoulder. She took a deep breath in and let a shaky, lip trembling one out. His father reassuringly rubbed her shoulders and cleared his throat.
"Ah, Ahem...there was a fire, son," he said hesitantly. "At the house."
"Fire!" exclaimed Aidan. "When? What happened?"
"It was a faulty plug in the hallway on the landing. Nobody's fault," he said. The shake in his voice indicated otherwise.
"You're both okay?" Aidan asked.
His father couldn't give an answer. All he could do was bite his trembling lip and nod his head.
"We thought we'd lost you," whimpered his mother as she gripped his hand tighter. Tears poured down her cheek.
Aidan looked down at his arms. No bandages. There were no drips. No machines. He brushed his fingers over his face. Nothing. He didn't even feel any pain. "I feel fine though," he said. "Why am I here?"
"The doctors just wanted to check you over," said his father. "Before you come out."
"But how come I'm in here. I must have gotten out of the fire. I'm not injured. I don't have a scratch on me," Aidan said with increasing frustration.
"You were trapped, son," explained his father. "In your bedroom. I...I couldn't get you out. The fire...it was so intense. The heat. I thought I'd lost you. I thought..."
"I don't understand," Aidan cried, shaking his head. He pulled the covers off his bed. "There's nothing wrong with me."
Aidan's father tried to calm him by easing Aidan back into his bed. "I know Aidan. I know. You are fine. But that's exactly what's got the doctors perplexed. You're survival is nothing short of miraculous."
Miraculous. The word was lost on Aidan. It seemed to hover on the periphery of his brain, failing to sink in. But it was all he thought about. When his parents left and he was alone in his bed he tried to rewind his memory, back track to the fire, but there was nothing to see. Just black. It was as though someone had erased it.
Even when his parents took him home from the hospital to his aunt's house he could claw back nothing of the incident.
It seemed he wasn't the only one stunned by the event. His entire family spoke nothing of the fire. They treated it as though it never happened. It if wasn't for the fact that his father had to deal with insurers and recover what belongings weren't destroyed they would have blanked it out completely. But nothing was said of Aidan's escape. Aidan garnered what little information he could from newspaper reports which showed pictures of the burnt out shell of his parents home. It frustrated him. He wanted answers but ever time he asked about that day his parents would clam up. So one afternoon, whilst his mother and father had an appointment at the bank and his aunt was out grocery shopping, Aidan rifled through draws in the kitchen, hall and lounge, and found a gas lighter is aunt used to light candles. He clicked the button and a little blue flame ignited at the end. With a deep breath he closed his eyes and held a finger over the flame. Nothing. He felt absolutely nothing. The only conclusion Aidan could draw was that he was impervious to fire, inflamable.
The notion of being different for unexplainable reasons filled him with horror at first. He felt like those people on telly that were afflicted with incurable and disfiguring conditions. But the more he thought about it the more he came round to the fact that there could be many upsides to being fireproof. He could become the world's best firefighter, or be like that guy that plugged blazing oil wells. He could be a hero.
Suddenly his reclusive, confused self was shattered and made way for supremely confident Aidan.
He strode into the school grounds, bracing himself for a barage of questions from other kids eager to know how he cheated death. But instead of being venerated he was shunned. The kids looked at him as though he was a freak. They muttered and mumbled to each other before giving him a wide berth, as though his condition was contagious.
Even his best mate, Ronnie-his friend since primary school-wouldn't go near him. He kept giving Aidan lame excuses to avoid being near him, like he had detention, or had a dentist appointment, or had football practise.
And the teachers were no better. They gave Aidan top marks in all his essays just so they didn't have to coach him on how he could do better.
He felt like a pariah. At lunch time he sat outside on the lawn beside the football pitches and listlessly flicked the gas lighter he stole from his aunt's house. He'd planned on wowing his classmates with flame tricks, but as no-one was interested he entertained himself. One by one he held each finger in the centre of the flame, silently wishing his skin would burn just so he could be normal again. When on the last finger he heard a scream coming from the school. He looked across at the main building. A plume of white smoke was snaking up into the clear blue sky from the back of the school.
Instantly Aidan leapt up, dropping the gas lighter to the ground, and ran toward the building. The alarm was blaring and kids were running out of every door followed by anxious teachers trying to usher them to the appropriate fire points. Aidan paid no attention to repeated calls for all children to evacuate the school. He ran inside,darting between panic-striken kids, following the acrid smell. It got stronger and stronger until soon Aidan could actually see the smoke. It was coming from one of the chemistry labs.
With his hand over his mouth he ran down the corridor, through the thick, grey swirling smoke. The lab door was open. Inside one of the benches was alight, burning brightly, strongly. Behind the teachers desk, laying on the floor, unconcious, was Miss Hartley. She was his science teacher. Nice but a bit of a pushover when it came to dealing with unruly kids. But that wasn't her fault. Without a second thought he dived into the room just as a glass jar on the flaming table exploded. Flames shot through the air, in front of him and behind him. But Aidan didn't worry. He knew he'd be alright, but Miss Hartley wouldn't be if he left her in here much longer. He grabbed her arms and pulled her over his shoulder. Although she was only slight she was still a dead weight on his back. He wavered, struggling to stay upright in the midst of the choking smoke. He staggered out of the lab and down the dark corridor, searching for a break in the smoke, searching for fresh air. He twisted and turned down every corridor, completely disorientated and by pure luck, found the back door that lead to the sports block. Outside he dropped Miss Hartley to the ground. He coughed and spluttered, breathing deeply the fresh clear air to cleanse his charred lungs. His eyes were stinging, blurring his vision but he could make out bodies running toward him. It was the Headmaster and Miss Higgins, the School Secretary.
"Aidan," screamed Miss Higgins. "What are you doing? You could have got yourself killed."
"Is she okay?" Aidan spluttered. "Miss Hartley."
The Headmaster was administering CPR to the stricken science teacher, pounding her chest, trying to get her to breath.
"I'm sure she'll be fine. She owes you a great deal of gratitude, as stupid as your actions were," said Miss Higgins as she stroked Aidan's shoulder. It was the first time anyone had come so close to him since the accident.
Aidan smiled.
"What about you? How are you? Or is that a stupid question," asked Miss Higgins.
Aidan laughed. "You know, obviously."
"About your...talent? Yes," she replied.
Aidan glanced down at Miss Hartley and then back at the burning science wing of the school. He smiled, meekly. "I'll be fine. Just fine."