This is my WIP for NaNoWriMo 2014. Be patient and understanding.

I hope you enjoy! :D

Thank you.

​And the car crashed with a loud, disgusting thud - the alarming sound of screeching tires, metal ripping apart and getting thrown against the road and trees. It barreled its way down the road to the ditch until it hit a maple tree square in its trunk. 

One of the passenger's screaming had been silenced forever with his broken neck and bleeding wounds. The other momentarily lost his compass, shaking his head so as to clear his mind and the stars he saw, stop his sight from spinning as well as trying to go all black. His left leg felt... absent, either as full of lead or non-existent, but he had no control over it. He put a hand to his forehead, and rubbed, groaning. Looking at it, he saw with horror that it was bloodied. He gasped and opened wide eyes; it had just struck him that they've been in a car crash and his best friend might be hurt. His heart rate increased and his breathing was jagged as fear was swallowing him.

''Jean-Marie! Jean-Marie!'' he shouted, his head snapping towards his friend's body. Utterly worried and scared, he put a hand on him and began shaking him.

But nothing!

''Oh no! OH NO!'' he screamed, sobs escaping here and then.

At this right instant, he saw a flame come out of the hood. His eyes widened with terror - if he was afraid of something, it was fire! He was arsonphobic, and he knew that when fire caught in the motor, it was never good... a sign of imminent explosion. His heartbeat increased and sweat began dripping down his forehead, mixing with blood from his cut that he didn't even feel the pain of - ah, adrenaline, such a drug of choice. 

And another flame with a terrible whooshing sound appeared. Enough to make anyone in Harry's situation sick. He felt nauseous and paralyzed, with tingles in his members that seemed to force him into place. Phobia, never a good thing. He could sense himself losing it, but he knew he had to stay strong and lucid. So, he fought it, but it's easier said than done. 
Panicked, he decided it'd be worse if he stayed in the car either way. He beat fear with a greater one: exploding with the car. He managed to push the broken and hanging door open, making it screech against the ground until it fell. Harry hurried outside as best as he could through the trapped environment with his unmoving legs. Why were they unresponsive?! He glanced at them and saw that one had a huge gash in the thigh whilst the other was simply limp - probably the seat slamming forward and hitting the desktop. Anyways, he had no time to really ponder over the matter, and so he slid himself out of the car and crawled difficultly on his arms. But it wasn't fast enough. And he was still too close.

It exploded in a tower of menacing flames worthy of Hell with a disgusting loud noise.

Harry only had time to gasp before the fire was on him. At first, he couldn't feel a damn thing. But quickly, it burned so hot it hurt worse than anything you could imagine. Seeing the fire on his arms, he thought he'd die of a heart attack before. His eyes were threateningly bulging out of his skull, his breath so short almost inexistant. As for his heart rate... it was so strong and rapid it hurt as it felt as though it tried to open his ribcage and jump out of it. Possibly to escape the nightmare Harry could not.

He stood up thanks to adrenaline shooting force and instinct in his veins, and ran from left to right and vice versa. Yelling madly as he swung his arms in no real direction. He just wanted OUT of this! The flames licked his whole body, swallowing him in a dancing waltz of deadly red and blue. He didn't know which was worse: being thrown in his phobia or the fear of dying from it.

Screaming, he realized in a fraction of second that he wasn't hurting anymore - the fire had cut all of the nervous terminals. If he ever got out of it alive, he'd be unrecognizable...
He was experiencing horror first-hand. His horror. Now he had lost it. He had nowhere to go, and yet he ran. His thoughts were messy, incomplete; bits and pieces that didn't have the strength nor time to mend themselves. He felt broken in his guts, haunted. And it didn't
stop.

''STAY RIGHT THERE!'' shouted a paramedical. He threw an anti-fire blanket over Harry, who was still debating himself and yelling to no end, pushing him down to the ground. 

He didn't have to fight long with the poor kid as he understood someone had come to his aid. The paramedical pressed hard on multiple places for the fire to extinguish, which worked after a short while. He was slightly apprehensive to remove the blanket and see the damage that had been done. 

But how surprised was he with what he saw!

His eyes opened wide and his breathing cut for an undetermined amount of time. 

It was impossible!

Harry groaned and, crying, he lifted his head up, prodding himself up on his arms. His face, except for a few scratches and thin burnmarks, was all clear and soft, just like any adolescent's face should be. As for his arms... they bore a bit more marks, but nevertheless, they looked almost intact as well. Not the result of a third degree burn!

By the time the paramedics arrived, that is what Harry was considered: a third degree burn.

And yet, he looked... well, just like a first degree one. 

''Impossible...'' said the first paramedic, the one with the blanket.

''It's a miracle, boy!'' exclaimed another one, slowly kneeling beside his colleague to observe this.

Harry couldn't believe his burned ears! A miracle?! How was his experiencing fire a miracle?! Because he came out alive? Heck, many people came out alive of it... And he knew he was ugly now.

Panting loudly, he looked up, frowning, at the two men with a grimace. Seriously? They were cuckoo! He was all disfigured, burned over, and they found this a good news?! He probably even had huge boils/furuncles oozing with pus. So how could they be so glad?

The two men kept staring at him, their mouths agape, until they shook themselves and decided with a long glance to do what needed to be done.

‘’We must proceed with the protocol, in case it burned under his clothes,’’ said the second one.

‘’Agreed,’’ said the first one. He took out a big pair of scissors from his medical kit and cut all of the kid’s clothing, starting with his T-shirt.

Gently removing his boxers so the skin wouldn’t come with it, the paramedic tossed it to the side carelessly. Then, he proceeded to cut the young man’s rings on his right and left hand; most of them had melt into his skin, leaving traces of their shape; nevertheless, the man managed to take two of the 5 off.

Harry coughed and sobbed, his mind and soul still in the troubling event. His body was trembling with fear, and his breathing jerky. He wished for his parents to get here. To hug his sister. And for his friend to talk to him one last time…Speaking of which, Harry thought he was hallucinating for he saw a ghostly version of Jean-Marie leaning over him with a peaceful expression, and his usual smirk.

‘’You’ll live,’’ he told him.

His hands and face twitching, Harry passed out with terror finally exploding over him, overwhelming. 

Harry exhaled softly, slowly. He felt like waltzing in an emptiness, a void unknown which resounded with sickening screams and flames – a loud crashing sound, his friend calling him on the phone, and himself shouting his friend’s name with utter worry. His head jerked left and right, as if prey to nightmares. Indeed he was.

It was called ‘reflection of reality’. His mind was trying to purge itself from all the suffering, but only ended in giving him more trouble.

At last, he fluttered his heavy eyelids opened.

He could feel something tight around his arms and a soft pressure on his cheeks. Probably compresses with ointments to soothe his burns and other injuries. What had become of his legs? He was too scared to know… He must be so ugly now.

‘’AH! You’re awake. Thank God, Harry,’’ said his mother, a slim woman with light hair and beautiful round, brown eyes that reminded everyone of a child. She exuded kindness and gentleness, a peculiar affection and caring.

Adelina sighed with relief and scooted closer with her chair to her son, while her husband grinned and, leaning against the bed’s end, asked how he was.

‘’I… I don’t know… I… Dad…there was fire… FIRE!!! All around… on me!... And I…. oh my God, Jean-Marie…’’

His mother pouted sadly and caressed his hand softly, like only a mother would. They preferred not saying a word about all this, their son was distressed enough like it was. They were aware of their son’s phobia and how this must be a terrifying experience. Plus, he’d just lost his best friend… the only friend he’d kept since childhood.

‘’I thought you’d please me with dying, but oh well, what was a big sister to expect?’’ said Regina, standing in the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. She smiled awkwardly and walked forward very slowly, as if uncertain if she wanted to get to him or not, to see what had become of her annoying, but beloved little brother (by one year, he’d keep reminding her).

Harry didn’t reply anything; there was still a big void sucking him in from the inside. However, there was a little twitch at the corner of his lips and a low sound escaping his throat.

‘’Regina!’’ the parents scolded her, turning to her direction.

‘’Hey!’’ she defended herself (poorly, mind you), shrugging with an innocent expression. She grabbed a chair and took a seat next to her mother.

‘’WOW! How the hell do you look better than me?! This is unbelievable!’’ she exclaimed, mouth opened in surprise.

Huhuh. Of course…

He rolled his eyes (fuck, it hurt!), and grunted.

‘’No, I swear. You should see yourself! It’s----‘’

‘’Hello, Mr. Girard.’’

Everyone turned around (even Harry who did so with pain) to see the doctor coming into the room, checking his document.

‘’How are you? We’ve applied ointment on your injuries so could heal without any infection. Here’s my diagnosis: your legs are functioning, but have suffered a great shock. You just need a few days rest before you can move them again; however, healing the deep wounds and scratches on them will take longer. But in a month you should be all good to go to school,’’ he said with a smile, knowing the young man wouldn’t be all too happy about that last one. Haha, he always loved making that statement to students.

‘’In a-a month? How come? A-ain’t I----‘’

‘’Tut tut, your throat suffered damage from the impact too, lad, so I suggest your rest. Now, as for your burns, I must admit you’re the first I’ve seen in all of my career. It’s a miracle, lad! With all the time you spent with fire and the damage it done to your clothes and wearing, you’re supposed to be burned to the third degree.’’

Harry knitted his eyebrows in confusion, blinking twice as he tried to push the haziness away and make sense of what the doctor was telling him.

Supposed to? Then what do I look like?

‘’Here. Let me show you,’’ the man clad in white said, fumbling in the drawers near the bed for a mirror. ‘’I think it is best if you see for yourself.’’

Every member of the family gazed intently as the small mirror switched hands in expectation of the lad’s reaction. Harry, unsure about whether he wanted to see the devastation for himself or not, held up the object in front of him.

A moment of silence passed.

Too absorbed in the absurdity of the sight, Harry observed his features after having removed the bandages.

Oh, and what features they were now!

… Exactly the same as before!

Only, now there were about two burns on his cheeks and a gash on his forehead from when his head hit the wheel. Other than that, he was the same ole Harry.

It was impossible.

With all that fire, all that time… the car crash… No.

As if a dam of some kind broke inside of him, Harry began sobbing, a hand over his almost intact face.

He wasn’t disfigured! He wasn’t horrible!

He had survived.

He was alive!

All the fear, anger, and relief he felt came pouring out from his eyes. He imagined the rest of his body was just like his face, so it was perfect.

‘’Thank you, thank you, thank you…’’ he mumbled to no one in particular.

He could feel his mother’s arms around him. It was vaguely comforting.

‘’Yes, indeed, it is great news, Mister Girard. But it is not us you should thank… We believe it’s a miracle,’’ said the doctor with a compassionate smile. ‘’Well, I’ll get going now. The compresses will be changed ever four hours and you should have your sign-out in about a week. We want to make sure nothing else has been damaged, and that you’re healing properly. Good day to you all. If you search for me, I’m doctor Molak.’’

‘’Thank you, sir,’’ replied the mom with a grateful smile and a nod, which the father and the sister imitated.

‘’Everything’s going well, dear,’’ she said, turning to her child with a soft smile and a gentle sparkle of affection in her eyes.

‘’Yeah, you’re ready for Halloween.’’

‘’Regina!’’

Regina rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue before smiling playfully at Harry. Truth was she had been incredibly worried and still needed to vent out all of the stress that had built up in the last hours. Plus, teasing him was way too fun and consisted of a habit between them. Secretly, she hoped this would make him laugh too…

Harry stared at her seriously, with an expression that asked ‘Are you kidding me?’. But he knew the answer all too well and it was fine by him, though it still hurt – just the thought that he could have been like Frankenstein’s monster.

But then, his expression changed to sadness, utter sadness, as his eyes watered.

‘’Jean-Marie is… Jean-Marie is…’’ he said, lips quivering.

And no one talked.