light.

It was him.

It had to be him. She couldn't have mistaken the silhouette of the figure she daydreamed about almost everyday. The tall, somewhat muscular, dark-skinned and handsome Daniel Forster. She confirmed her suspicion as the figure appeared right before her. His full light-brown lips slowly spread into a warm smile, revealing his perfectly arranged set of white dentines and his both arms were clutching a flower bouquet, beautifully wrapped using old newspapers and tied with golden ribbons and lace trimmings.

Red and white flowers of the same species, green leaves. They scented like freshly cut watermelon slices and mashed pawpaws.

She didn't know the name of the flowers he was holding— she wasn't the flower type of girl but the gesture was enough to make her heart perform numerous back flips and become restless for the next few minutes.

You mean… “The Daniel Forster” is looking at her? And that too smiling??
Oh, it had to be a dream!

Daniel never ever looked at her in the past. Not even once. She remembered how she would look at him and examine, record and store every detail about him from a distance. She was able to get details on what his name was— though he'd never spoken to her before, what his favourite activity was— playing the piano; and the course he was studying — Mechatronics. But in the opposite case, he didn't even know she existed or even breathed. Oh the shame!

The atmosphere suddenly began to feel hotter around them. Beads of sweat formed steadily around Daniel's nose and his neck began to glisten in the sun. He started saying something which she couldn't quite understand and was about to ask him to repeat himself but life had other plans. Within the quarter of a millisecond, everywhere suddenly got so bright. It engulfed everything in its path, the surroundings and the main characters.

It was at this moment, Sara woke up.

It was just a dream?? Noooooo.
Oh, what a sweet dream…
Sweetest, sweetest dream!

And why was it only a dream? She had wished so badly that it would become reality. The smell of something burning suddenly pulled her away from her thoughts. She hissed at the realization.

Cooking by midnight? Typical work of Dera or… probably Mary forgot she was warming her vegetable soup.

Dera and Mary were fond of cooking food late at night when her and the other roommates were asleep. The room would usually become hot and uncomfortable, forcing them to wake up. It was probably them, she thought. Maybe, she contemplated until she saw the light from under her bed.

Fire.

Fire?

Fireeeeeeeeeeeee! She screamed.

All the girls woke up immediately and jumped on their feets. The fire moved faster than their anxiety moved them, climbing the wall where Sara's bed was and ran through the ceiling, reaching the opposite wall of the room. Sara's belongings were its first victim. Her clothes, cooking utensils and school work were not spared. She managed to grab her phone and school file then ran out of the room with the others. The girls closer to the entrance of the room had more time to gather most of their belongings and move them outside, since the room was big like a mini hall. Sara wasn't as lucky since she was given a space in the innermost part of the room.

The ten girls managed to leave the now smoky room without getting hurt. Ada, the most reserved girl in the room, ran back inside without caution to get her phone, despite the objections of her roommates. She didn't manage to carry anything, even her slippers when they first ran and would be totally hopeless without it.

By that time, girls in other rooms had also woken up. They stood in front of their room doors and were confused if it was a false alarm or not, for many girls usually shouted without cause on a normal day.

When they discovered the fire was real, some of them migrated to the source of the scream and started making videos. The fire had grown even larger and was on a vengeance. Black smoke gushed out of the doors. The glass windows cracked on impact with the fire, allowing the smoke to escape.

A few brave ones scurried around the hostel, searching for water to mix with detergent. They tried pouring the mixture inside the room from the door because the smoke had become so intense that you couldn't see anything once you walked in. Nevertheless, the fire was unrelenting and grew even further. Some were busy packing their belongings, preparing to run. Some were panicking and began to cry. The porters hadn't woken up by the time, making the girls agitated. And surprisingly, some were as calm and collected as Tyler Joseph, for this wasn't the first time this happened in the school's first time, nor would it be the last. They understood that.

Sara and her roommates just stood close to their room and watched as everything got burnt. The small fire she had seen earlier had grown so much in seconds to the extent that it has consumed every single thing in the room. She couldn't even cry. Crying wasn't an option for her. What would crying do? Can it bring all her beloved items back? No. Obviously not. On the other hand, it was solace for some of her roommates.

The hall governor had gone to work and called the fire service. The porters finally open the front doors, allowing the students to march out.

Sara moved towards the stairwell with her roommates. Her energy levels were dropping steadily and she was lost in thought. She said nothing to anyone and slowly made her way from the fourth floor to the ground floor. As she was about to reach the last floor, an unfamiliar hand rested on her shoulder, pulling her away from lala land.

It was Daniel.

She looked at him briefly and knew he was asking a question, but she didn't hear a word of it and turned back, continuing downstairs. He probably noticed the paleness of her skin and how lost she looked.

He arrived there with a couple of other boys from their own hostel and those who'd gone for night class, who had heard about the fire and decided to step in. They moved upstairs, determined to quench the fire. On a normal day, boys wouldn't be allowed to enter freely without a good reason.

At the entrance, the girls were scattered everywhere. Some sat on the huge brick slab that had stairs and others stood around them. Sara sat on the slab, waiting for dawn to arrive.

How did she plan on telling her parents about the fire?
All her things got burnt!
They already had enough in their lives and this was just unnecessary.
Her means of survival was… gone? Just like that?
The resin art and framing she did for people, all her tools and made orders… were gone?
Oh my good Jesus…

Her thoughts raced back and forth, detaching her from what was happening around her. The girls were busy chattering about what could have caused the fire and what could be done for the girls that got affected. They were disappointed in the school authorities, saying that it was high time they did renovations in the hostel. It was already overdue.

The fire service had rushed to the scene through the back entrance while the girls evacuated through the front. After over 40 minutes of sitting outside in the cold, the girls returned inside. The fire was tamed and didn't spread to the other rooms. The fire service and hostel boys worked together and successfully put it under control.

Sara returned to the corridor near her room and sat on a wooden bench that was closed to the staircase’s railing. She watched as the firemen gathered their hose and how each person standing in front of her room left one by one. They dropped their sorrys and God-will-be-with-yous as they left.

Unbeknownst to them, their sympathy wasn't doing any good than reminding her that she had nothing, apart from her life.

Life is just a potato, she thought.

She'd add “fry it” to that statement on a normal day, but all she had now were just plain boiled potatoes, with no sauce.

When the crowd had finally left, some of her other roommates sat beside her on the wooden bench. They said nothing to each other, counting on the silence to do the communication between them and were more focused on their innermost thoughts.

Just like that yesterday turned into today and nothing would ever be the same for them. Life is just being a potato.

Everything on this earth happens for a purpose.

She was glad nobody died or got hurt and was grateful to God for that. For Him to allow that kind of thing to happen to her, there's something ahead she can't quite make out now and she might never understand the reason or justify it, but she knows she'll be alright, everybody would be alright and they were in safe hands.

Maybe there would be light at the end of this tunnel.

Image from: Unsplash

P.S: I couldn't find a good picture for this post. If you have any ideas, please share them. Life would be mashed potatoes then.