“So I was just sitting there, looking at her, while she stared at the fire” I told my friend
“You should know she likes fires, you’re her boyfriend” he reminded me
“Yah, I know she likes fires. I don’t understand why though. Fires are all up in your face, burning things down. And she just isn’t like that”
“I don’t know man, she just seems out of whack lately. She didn’t show up to class on Friday even though she was I school. ” he tells me “Look, I’ve got to go, but I’ll talk to ya’ later” and he walks off down the school hallway
I watch him disappear into the crowd and I turn to walk the other way, off to math class to work with some stupid numbers.
I enter the classroom and take my seat, I wait and look up at the board until my teacher walks in. As soon as she sees me paying attention, I look away. No way am I going to be the center of attention today.
“Turn to page 114 and start the group work” my teacher tells the class. I turn to the page and I read through the problem, and solve it within five minutes. Then I spend the next ten minutes explaining my answer to the group. Tessa is and always will be the first one to get it, and once she understands she will re-phrase the answer so everyone else understands. I’ll sit back and watch as time ticks away. I go back to staring up at the white-board. After a while my teacher snaps me out of my half-awake, half-asleep state. “Alright, Kyle, can you present for us today the answer”
I reply “sure” even though I don’t wish to present. I don’t wish to stand up, I don’t wish to explain myself to people who won’t understand, I don’t wish to try.
But I go up to the d*** board because that is what is expected of me. I write out letters and numbers until I have enough to explain. This is when words come into play, however I am personally not a huge fan of them. I go on and drone about how this makes sense to that and how I ended up with the answer being 30 peanuts. My teacher asks me some clarifying questions that I go on and take another 5 minutes to explain something everyone already knows.
Then I go down and take my seat again. This time, instead of spacing out, I think about how weird it was to watch Alice stare at the fire. The whole day was strange. From us watching TV to her hiding her face in my chest. Then asking what was wrong, only for her to reply ‘nothing’ even though there were tears streaming down her face. I think about this until the bell rings for lunch, which I rush out of the classroom to get to. The hallways fill up and I keep towards my destination. I head down some stairs, stop by my locker, grab my lunch, and head to the cafeteria. Once I am there I find Alice, who is chatting to one of her friends. I see the smile on her face that I always get to see when we’re out and about. I walk up to her just as she says good-bye to her friend. We go out into the hallway and sit together. Although we do have friends in this lunch, today is the day for just us. She picks the same spot we always sit and slides her back down the wall until she is sitting. We pull out our lunches and start munching. Now would be the time where she strikes up a conversation, but today she says nothing.
“How has swimming been?” I ask
She smiles and puts down her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “its been good, the new coach is bleh, like he is a good coach but an awful person. I miss my last coach, maybe its just because he is a teacher too, he understands that we have other commitments. If I miss more than two practices we have to have a ‘talk’ and my new coach is grading us, from best to worst, who the hell does that? Why does he even think that is okay?” Alice rants
From then on the mood lightens and we talk about our classes, and all the stupid finals we have to study for. She jokes how she will skip finals and run away to Nebraska.
“Why Nebraska?” I ask
“Because nothing bad ever seems to happen there. I’ve never heard news with something even remotely shocking there. I bet their news is ‘Cows block the way to the school and some students end up late’”
Soon after that we left to go to the rest of our classes. I went to English then study hall and finally Spanish. She went to computer programming, math, and Economics. At the end of the day I met up with some friends and took the bus to my place. She went home.
My friends and I get to my place and walked out into the woods, my friend bought a new grinder and showed it off. We pulled out our pipes and bongs and got super stoned. When I done smoking, I had this strange fascination with my lighter. It was like I could feel the light with my soul. I kept striking it, letting the fire burn for a moment then let it go out.
“Its funny how you can control fire when human kind couldn’t control for the longest time” one of my friends said
Which I replied sounding stoned out of my mind “Dude, but can I really control it, or does it just look like I control it?”
“Dude what?” he said and after that I just spaced out all the way to Jupiter.
The next day went by and I went out skiing. Then I went out the day after that. The next school week I spent all my time training for skiing, while Alice swam for the school team. The weekend passed, I spent a day with her, and we played monopoly all day long. I watched as her smile started huge at the beginning of the day, slowly move to a plain dull expression. She talked about swimming, how she swam at her meets, and how she loves to just swim back and forth, not thinking about anything but technique. She mentioned how she wants to visit this river near-by and see it has frozen over. If it has, she wants to try ice fishing even though she has never gone.
The next week we text back and forth complaining about finals, she is freaking out about her final the up coming Monday which is her Chemistry exam, and her Math final. I complain about Spanish and just work through the hours of homework I have each night.
Friday comes and my dad suddenly decides that tomorrow we will spend the day bonding, even though I was planning to spend the day with Alice. He argues I’ll see her Sunday; which was the plan. I tell her about all this after school on Friday. Although she seems sad at first, she quickly perks herself up and hops around trying to make another plan. Too bad everyone else has plans; studying.
My dad takes me out into the woods of a town that I hadn’t even heard of. We sit down along a trail and he looks me in the eyes and says, “Build a fire. If I have taught you well you’ll know how to. Here is a lighter.” And he throws me a blue bic lighter.
I give him a confused look but he just sits there, waiting for me to start working. I ended up building the fire within half an hour, which is surprising sense all the wood around me is wet from the snow. He claps when I am done and then starts his yapping “one time my clothes caught on fire” my dad laughs “I got this burn over this part of my body” he hand traces over his left part of his torso all the way up to his armpit “thank god my armpit hair didn’t catch, it was a real close one. Although I didn’t have a lot of armpit hair at your age, I believe you matured sooner than I did son.” We went on to talk about college which seems to be the real reason why he wanted to be with me today, I act like it matters but to me college isn’t that important. When the fire dies out my dad starts poking the embers. “Remember Kyle, you can always use the embers to restart the fire, even if you don’t think it will light, it most likely will”
That night I get text from Alice saying she wants to go to the bridge tomorrow even though she saw it wasn’t frozen. I ask her what time and she says to meet her there at one pm. I get some homework done and head to sleep.
The next day I wake up and play video games until it is time to go. I tell my dad to go to her house because the bridge is on the way, and I can just tell him then. Alice calls me when I am driving over to the bridge but I let it go to voice mail because my dad is in the car and I need to be a safe driver, to show him I can drive his car on my own someday. Plus I wouldn’t want him listening to our conversation anyways. We drive over the bridge “I’m going to get out here, I think Alice called to tell me that, it was a plan we were kicking around” We park where there are tire tracks, probably where Alice got dropped off.
“What is that thing in the water? Some college students better have not dumped a whole keg here”
“I do remember beer bottles here in the summer” I add
I get out and start walking towards the river. 
I can’t see it to clearly, looks like there is some snow on top, or is that a white coat?
Wait, no it looks like a body. And it only makes sense that it is Alice. Adrenaline shoots through me and I start stripping down my clothes, then run out to the water to get her. My dad just stares in disbelief. I get to her and the water has already made my feet go numb. I get to her and she is face down in the water. I start pulling her to the other side of the bridge because it is closer. I pull her out and start doing CPR on her. We both became certified lifeguards last summer when we decided we should get jobs at the local pool over the summer. Her pale face is the color of a sheet of paper. I feel no pulse or breath. In the distance I hear sirens, we aren’t too far from the hospital. But she is too far from life to be saved.
“Get up, come on, get up Alice. Alice. ALICE! Oh no... no.” I try to breath but I fear if I do it will be the breath she should be taking “no. no. no. no. NO! I’m sorry. I am so so sorry. I’m sorry, I am sorry. Alice…” Tears start strolling down my face and fall on her face. In my head I yell at myself “This isn’t happening, she is going to be okay. I can’t give up, I won’t give up.”
I start stripping off her wet clothes. It is clear she wore a lot to weigh herself down. This was a planned suicide. But why? She always seemed so happy? Sure she had her moments when she would cry for no reason but they were only moments, weren’t they?
My dad comes to my side, and wraps me in his warm coat that I shove off and give to her. I lie next to her and hope that my body heat warms her up again. Hoping that if I care enough she will come back to me. I see an ambulance come over the bridge and close to us. I notice there is graffiti on the bridge, but my tears make it impossible to read. People rush about me, and now my insides go numb. I have people push me around “Are you okay?” I get asked thousands of times by a bunch of different people I have never seen before. I reply yah but that’s only because anything else is too much effort.
At the hospital I sit next to my father, I allow doctors blow by me. I am stuck here for another hour, the doctors want to make sure I don’t get hypothermia, and they have a bunch of bull regulations. Her parents came to see me, but they are clearly busy with the loss of their daughter. My dad comes in and asks me if I want to hear what Alice said on the phone. I reply okay, but I don’t know if I can handle it. My phone beeps a couple of times as my dad tries to understand it. Then I hear her voice again:
“I’m sorry, I am so so sorry. I wanted to write this but I couldn’t find the words. I can never find the words; I guess that’s why I didn’t say anything. I thought about doing this before, before I met you, but then you came and made me genuinely smile, and I thought there was hope. I wish I knew I was wrong, then I would never have dragged you into this mess I call my life. Actually scratch that, the word life isn’t the word I could call my insistence. Life would imply I was living, and I may have been, but just barely. Again… even now I can’t seem to describe it. I was living even though I was lifeless. Going through basic routine, faking any emotions I needed, day after day… I can’t do that anymore. I’ve heard people describe what I am feeling as darkness, but its not dark, its blinding light, that consumes everything. You can try to block it with you hand or maybe some sunglasses someone gives you but it is still there. I can’t get rid of it… Please just know that I loved you, you were the only one who has genuinely helped me. I’m sorry this isn’t enough. I’m sorry I am not stronger. I am sorry. Please, just promise me not to follow in my footsteps. Move on, remember me, but… move on” The last part was barely audible sense she was choking on her own words. I stare at a far wall. Somewhere, I don’t even know where, is a dead body, who used to smile at me.
The next day I go to school even though my dad insists that I don’t. I wish I had listened to him because all day friends asked:
“What’s wrong? Or “are you okay?” or “Is something up? and all day I replied “nothing” or “I’m fine” or “No, not at all”. The only ones who know about Alice’s death are the teachers and they kept quiet all day, leaving me alone to mourn. I spent all of the day looking at stupid pieces of paper.
I skipped practice that day, the first time I had in weeks. I went straight home and laid in bed to watch my ceiling.
When my dad got home, he built a fire, which I spent the rest of the night looking at.
“How was school?”
“Fine.”
“Good”
End of conversation.
The next day I didn’t go to school. In fact, I skipped school for the rest of the week. By now people were hearing what had happened and I really don’t want to deal with any of the ‘I’m so sorry’ bulls***. Instead each day I built myself a fire, and stared at it. I only got up to go to the bathroom, make food, or add a log to the fire. By Friday I ended up sleeping on the couch because I didn’t want to move all the way to my bed.
Saturday my friend came over to play video games, I wasn’t up for video games so we got some more people together and ended up smoking again in the woods behind my house. Once we were in the our smoking spot we got our stuff out but this time I was the only one to bring a lighter.
“What if everything was a dream, like our whole life was just us sleeping somewhere else?” One of my friends asked.
“That’s not possible, why the hell would anyone want to dream this twisted world?” I question, “I think we’re all just in a mental hospital and this is our way of escaping. Maybe they inject us with some drug and that’s how we all imagine the same thing… because we’re all doing the same drug”
“Whoa, too much dude, too much. I can’t…”
“You can’t what?”
“What?”
“You know there is this theory called Sol.. Sol-mason… no, Solpo… Sol… oh! Solipsism. I think… where everyone is just a figment of your imagination.” One friend tells us. We then packed up our stuff and walked home. Well, we went to my home. We played video games and roasted marshmallows with my fire that hadn’t gone out when we were gone.
Monday I was back in school, this time due to my dad making me go. The day came and went, I went to practice, and then home where I built myself a fire to watch instead of doing homework, then I repeated that the next day. I ended up doing this for a month. Simply going through routine without any emotions.
Then I got a therapist. She told me I just missed my mother, even though I had never met her. She’s supposed to have a college degree in this, and anyone could have told me this had nothing to do with my mother.
After the first visit I went and tried another one. I liked my second one, and he got me to build fires only six times a week, and leave Sunday to remember Alice. I started feeling better throughout the next month. However I still felt like s***.
In one dream I had, I saw the graffiti on the bridge. I kept thinking about it, until I mentioned it to my therapist, who told me to go to the bridge with a friend.
I took his advice and the next Sunday one friend and I went out. I took this friend because I know he cares and I know he’ll be silent. He drove us there, and I could see from far away that all the ice was gone. When he parked, I got out and looked up to see the words I had forgotten about. Written in red, and with other graffiti over it it must’ve have been here for about a year without me noticing. It was clear it she had written it by her hand writing.
On the  side of the bridge was a set of words I will never forget:
“Water is the only way I know how to put out fire”