A Chance of Fire

"It's Five O'Clock in the morn-"

You hit the clock as you groan loudly from being woken up by your horrible alarm clock. You begin to rub the sleep off your eyes and open up the blinds. As you do this, the light shines right in your eyes, causing you to turn away from the blinding light. Cursing underneath your breath, you turn towards your dresser and open up a few drawers. You organized it quite well, especially since you're almost the same as about all the other average males on this planet. For some reason, your dresser is more organized than the rest of the room.

Go figure.

You grab a pair of boxers, a company shirt, blue jeans, and a neon blue pair of socks from the drawers. As you grab your clothes, you set them on top of dresser and turn back to the bed. Gently and carefully, you make your bed with ease. Standing proud over your momentous achievement in the art of bed-making, you smile and turn back to your dresser.

You look down and grab your work outfit. It's not much to look at, but you know you don't need to look snazzy at your workplace today. Besides, the only people you can truly impress is your manager, your friend Derrick, and your soon to be girlfriend Stephanie. When you mean 'soon to be', it means you're very close to getting some from her.

Averting your gaze from the dresser, you storm out of the room and into the bathroom to change.

As you're changing into your casual work clothes, you hear a knock and a few choice shouts saying,

"CHANCE ARE YOU DONE YET?"

"IS THE SHOWER WORKING?"

"WHY ARE YOU TAKING SO LONG!?"

You sigh and retort with,

"I'm almost done, the shower is working just fine, and it's the last day of the work week so let me be lethargic for once!"

The voice belonged to your best friend, Nice. You and her met back at Du Plaines North High. She was such a character at orientation week and she always knew how to make you laugh. As days went on, you became real close with her. Nice and you actually tried to date each other, but after a few weeks into the relationship, you both felt awkward. You split up with her after that, only to reunite at work five years after graduation. It was a great reunion and the two of you became close again.

So close that you decided to let her move in with you.

...

With all the memories brushed aside, you finish clothing yourself and get out of the bathroom. As you open the door, Nice is standing there, awaiting for her turn to use the facilities. Nice is currently in her pajama pants and shirt that says: 'I'm Playful, Take me'. The attire at this moment causes you to let out a hearty laugh. Nice looks at you, puzzled by why you laughed at her. She looks down and realizes what you were laughing at.

In less than seconds, her face becomes the coloration of a tomato. She shifts her gaze back up to you and says,

"Please move Chance...I need to change."

You chuckle at this and say,

"Oh you need to change? Do you possibly..." You wiggle your eyebrows at her. "Need help with that?"

Her countenance changes to one of annoyance and shies you away from the entrance. Her push causes you to stumble a bit, but you find your balance.

Once she's inside, she turns to you and asks,

"Walk much?"

...

She's fighting a war that she can't win.

You pull yourself off the ground and glare at her. She giggles at you and shuts the door, leaving you in the hallway.

Alone.

By yourself.

With a clear path to the kitchen.

Think of the juicy bacon strips with th-

As you think of the kitchen, your stomach grumbles, begging for you to head towards the paradise of substance.

You lick your lips and dash towards the food pantry.

Moments later, you're sitting down at the table, chowing down on some juicy  grilled bacon strips. You also decided to add some scrambled eggs and some apples to the meal. As you continue munching on your delicious meal, you hear a voice from the hallway shout,

"CHANCE? ARE YOU EATING WITHOUT ME?"

How the hell does she know I'm eating without her?

You answer,

"I was starving! Can't help my stomach was doing all the talking and thinking! I just followed through and-"

"JUST SHUT THE TRAPDOOR AND PREPARE SOME SCRAMBLED EGGS FOR ME WILL YOU?!"

Who stuck a hockey puck up her ass?

"YOU DID!"

Puzzled by her ability to read your mind through inanimate objects, you return to your scrumptious meal.

After a few minutes, you finish your meal and take your dishes to the sink. While you do this, you have already started cooking Nice's share of scrambled eggs and juicy bacon. As you cook her meal, you begin to drift off into the depths of your memories.

You remember when you were the age of two years old, your mother would always be by your side, making sure you didn't do anything stupid. You remember your original home, where foxes could be seen from your bedroom window. It was such a great place to live, especially for an explorer such as yourself. At a young age, you always had the spirit of curiosity and exploration. You wanted to see the world around you, even though you weren't allowed to step out of the boundaries your parents set for you...

Unless they approved to stretch those boundaries farther.

You remember how your home was on a large property, had a dense forest for any critter to use as their home. You always were told to not enter it, for dangerous creatures lurked around every corner.

Basically, it was your mother's warning to not get poison ivy or become another animals supper.

Unlike most children, you took heed of your mother's warnings, however; on some occasions... you decided to step up your game.

The one occasion you remember was when you first ventured into the woods.

Unfortunately, you didn't last long. In about a minute, you ran out of the forest, screaming your head off. The reason you screamed for about an hour didn't make sense to you. You got scared because you heard a voice say,

"CHANCE YOUR BACON IS BURNING!"

You snap out of your daydream to be welcomed by a juicy yet slightly burnt pieces of bacon strips.

Daydreaming is now off limits when cooking food.

You swiftly turn off the stove and slide the smoldering hot strips off the frying pan onto a plate.

Fortunately, your day dreaming didn't harm the eggs at all, allowing your friend to be able to have nice fluffy eggs with her poorly cooked bacon strips.

You turn towards Nice and present to her the meal.

As the plate slides over to her, she doesn't bring her glare towards her plate and dig in.

Instead, she keeps her glare glued to your eyes. This has caused the same old engaging stare-down you and Nice have created since she first came to your lovely abode. The Tradition of the stare-down has been handed down from your great-great-great-great grandparents. Ever since the tradition has been started, it hasn't ended...

By the almighty beings above will you never end it either.

The battle becomes intense, your continuing your deathly stare into her eyes. Nice is firing just as much power back at you. It won't be long before one of you falter into the abyss of defeat.

You smirk slightly and begin to point in the general direction of her plate. You announce,

"Your bacon will get cold if you don't start chowing down."

Her countenance suddenly shifts to one of realization. Nice hated when her bacon was cold. She would always be specific about what temperature it had to be at for her to consume it. She was one of the picky-eaters.

You, on the other hand, would eat anything in sight. You were like a vacuum, gripping any food source with intense suction.

She tried to eat without removing her undying glare from your strengthened stare, but she couldn't and averted her attention to the meal.

When she tore her glare from yours, you fist-pumped for your triumphant victory over the 'nice' disturbance.

She looked back up at you and shook her head in dejection, before returning to her meal.

While she returned to her meal, you sit down opposite of her, taking care to not scratch the hardwood floor you put in about two weeks ago. The hardwood flooring was a good option since you didn't have any pets running around. Pets scratch hardwood floors so badly. The only pet you could even consider now would be fish or pet gerbils.

Pet business set aside, you look at her and say,

"What are you doing after work?"

She pauses and shares a glance with you. She states bluntly,

"Going shopping with some girlfriends."

She usual said this when she didn't want to talk with you, or when you beat her in the staring contest.

In this case, the staring contest loss really hammered her self-esteem down. You have no regrets.

You tease her saying,

"Can't handle defeat can you?"

As if a gun sounded off in your direction, she immediately snaps to your gaze, giving you a irritated glare intensifying every second you look back at her.

She growls,

"I can handle your petty games, but when we're at work...you're getting payback for over-celebrating."

Since when did she becoming menacing?

You smirk back at her and challenge,

"Bring it on Nice. Your paybacks are like child's play!"

Her expression doesn't soften, instead; it grows, her cheeks turning red as she stares into your eyes.

When she cleans her plate of food, she stands up and walks away from the dishes, leaving her dirty plate and silverware on the table. She leaves the table with a huff, not looking back at you as she walks towards the coat rack.

You look at the mess she made on the table for a few moments, before returning your gaze to her. You say in a somewhat menacing tone,

"Where do you think you're going?"

Without a second to think, she replies,

"To work."

"But you left your dishes out."

She shrugs at you and says,

"So what?"

"They have to be washed!"

...

She pauses for a moment before returning her gaze to you. She states without any emotion,

"Part one of my payback..."

With another angry huff, she turns herself towards the door, opens it, and shuts the door; leaving you to do the dishes.

Damn it Nice.

You arrive to your work place...

three hours late.

After dealing with the dishes at home, you had dash out the door and into your car. About half way down the road, your car had an engine light turn on...

Scratch that. Almost all of the engine lights turned on.

You had to pull over to the side of the road and call roadside assistance. You were overjoyed with the fact you were going to be late. After you called for assistance, you had to call into work saying your car went caput. Your manager wasn't a happy camper to say the least.

After waiting for roadside service to come by, you hear your phone ring. You reluctantly pick up the phone and check the caller ID.

It's Nice.

You groan and answer the phone, bringing it to your ear.

This was your biggest mistake.

You're immediately greeted by the sound of what could be deciphered as two wookies on a parade float trying to scream their ABC's to a crowd of over one million ewoks.

Upon hearing this unusual uproar, you pull the phone away from your ear.

After a few moments of listening to the barrage of sounds, you yell into the phone,

"NICE, GET THE PHONE AWAY FROM THE TELEVISION SET RIGHT NOW!"

Your shout must've done something, because the sound emitting from the phone stopped its unpleasant noises. After a few seconds of regaining your hearing, you place the phone next to your ear and await for Nice to respond.

After a few seconds of silence, you take the initiative and say,

"Thank you for turning off the wookie porn. It wasn't helping my situation in the slightest."

You hear a sudden outburst of laughter from the phone. Nice did this to you in tense situations so you could relax a little. It's like she's the queen of all that is laughable, only slightly more creative with it.

As the laughter subsided on the other end of the line, you ask,

"What did you call me for?"

You hear a few grumbles before Nice responded saying,

"Because I care about your well-being. Do you think I wouldn't be worried when my roommate would just suddenly disappear off the face of the Earth and not turn into work? I thought I made you angry when I stormed out of the house this morning!"

You listen quietly and reflect on what she said. You were slightly angry when she left, but you knew you deserved the treatment. You sigh and reply,

"Yes you did make me angry, but I realized you didn't mean anything by it. Besides, I know you too well Nice. You do things like this to make a point."

She sighs as well, probably due to having a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. She says,

"Well if it means anything, I'm sorry Chance. I shouldn't have done that this morning. I had a bad night la-"

"NICE GET BACK TO WORK!" You hear the voice shout in the background.

"Yes sir," Nice says, her voice lingering off softly.

You sigh and await for Nice to say goodbye, but she surprises you with something you wouldn't suspect.

"I hope you get back soon...It's boring without you here..."

A smile grows on your face as you hear her plea. Taking a few moments to gather your thoughts, you say,

"I will...just don't prank anyone else until I get there."

As if someone threw her party switch on, you hear her say,

"Okay! Talk to you later Chance!"

You hear the phone beep, signifying the end of the call.  As soon as you take the phone away from your face, you hear a truck approach behind you.

It was the roadside services.

You look in your rearview mirrors, waiting for the man to jump out of his truck. Instead, you see the man writing a few notes down, before looking at you with a intense glare. After a few moments, you see the man jump out of his truck.

You jump out of your vehicle and approach him.

He asks,

"What happened with the car?"

You respond bluntly,

"All the engine lights flashed and then I heard a loud clinging noise from the engine, causing me to pull over."

The man inspected the vehicle, circling around it in case any loose bolts came off. Satisfied with his inspection, the man turned to you and said,

"I see...well, you might as well hop into my truck...I'll be there in a few minutes."

You nod and proceed to the truck. As you wait inside of the tow truck, you contemplate over your own thoughts and most all, Nice. She hasn't seemed this worried about you ever since you just 'became friends' again. Even though she was the one who stabbed you square in the heart, she still felt sorry and always apologized about it.

It's hard to let the ones you love go and just become 'friends' like you were before.

Fortunately for you, you gutted through it all, and faced the challenges it brought. That's the Chance way of doing it.

As you continue to muse over your thoughts, you hear the door unlock to the tow truck. The man climbs in and turns on the truck. Before leaving he turns around to check if the car is hooked up, then turns towards you. He asks,

"What's your name son?"

You faintly smile and say,

"Chance."

"That's one heck of a name there son. Back when I was your age..."

You sit there quietly, listening to the man ramble on about his life. You knew that this would be a long truck ride to the shop, but you didn't mind.

Work can wait for a while.

That is how you arrived three hours late.

As you jumped out of the tow truck, you turn towards the man and thanked him for driving you to work. He replied,

"Don't worry about it Chance. I'll repair your car in a jiffy and you can pick it up tomorrow..." The man paused. "Wait, how will you leave work?"

You reply saying,

"I'll catch a ride with my roommate. At least her car still functions."

He grins and replies,

"Sounds like a plan." The repairman pauses, pulling out a slip of paper. 'Here's my number. I'll call you when it's done."

You reach for the paper and respond,

"Thank you again for all this sir."

The man laughs and says,

"Being called sir makes me feel old. Just call me Rayner." The man pauses and points to your place of work. "Now don't you have a job to do?"

"Of course I do," you say. "and so do you."

"Touché."

Rayner rolls up his window and waves, before averting his attention to the road. He pulls out of the parking lot, leaving you to head into work.

Alone...

With three managers ready to kick you in the face for being late...

What a great start to your day.

Work was anything but pleasant. The managers drilled you to the ground, working intensely to get everything done in a swift manner. You've never been pushed so hard to move carts from outside the parking lot into the store as fast as these managers did. When you first walked in, the managers basically swarmed you. When you told them what happened again, they believed it; however, they didn't leave you off the hook.

The only thing that made your day was seeing Nice perk up at the sight of you entering the store. She was worried about you the whole day and just seeing you there was enough to put a big grin on her face.

After work, you and Nice both meet up out in the parking lot. It's 8:30 P.M. and you need to catch a ride home with her.

She asks,

"So when do you have to get your car?"

You shrug and say,

"He hasn't called yet. I'm hoping by tomorrow..." You pause. "I'm probably going to need a ride home then."

Nice giggles at your remark and says,

"Well of course you do! Unless you want to walk home?"

The walking home bit sounded very unappealing to you.

"I don't think I want to walk all the way to our apartment..."

"Then get in!"

She unlocks the door, allowing you entry in. Climbing into her car is a hassle. Her seat is up way to far, making it almost close to impossible to get in. You basically had to crawl in and try to find the seat mover, so you could sit normal. What's worse about this is...

Nice isn't helping you at all. Instead, she's watching you try and squeeze your way into your seat. As your close to hitting the mover, she says,

"I didn't know it was that hard to get into a seat Chance."

You face palm and mutter,

"Would've been nice if you helped..."

She smiles and says,

"You said to not prank anyone else until you were here."

...

You sigh and say,

"That I did...that I did."

She laughs, causing you to laugh.

As you both to continue you to laugh, she pulls out of the parking lot. You both drive off into the sunset, laughing like a bunch of wild hyenas.

Home.

You're finally home, safe and sound.

You didn't know how bad of a driver Nice was and you will never be in her passenger side unless you have a emergency kit with you.

Nice hit at least three curbs and cut off two people, speeding in a fifty mile per hour road. If this was a demolition derby, she would surely be in first place every time.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the case.

When she parked in the parking lot of the apartment building, you leaped out of the car and kissed the ground. You looked at the sky and yelled,

"I'm ALIVE!!"

Nice didn't think you were funny and came around to hit you on the head, making you fall to the ground in a heap. You growled a bit and picked yourself off the ground.

Now, you've collapsed on the couch due to your lack of energy. Nice is beside you, sitting in a recliner you bought at a garage sale. She's holding the remote and watching the television. You groan as you hear women on the television, whining about what dress they should pick for their wedding.

As you groan, you turn to your side, so you don't have to hear the deranged cries of women. You begin to drift off, sleep taking you to a world of dreams...

This is probably the weirdest dream you've ever had.

You're sitting on a cloud, with a pegasus sleeping on your leg. You've been here for roughly six minutes already and you have no idea how you wound up on a cloud.

As you look at the pegasus, you notice it's orange hue, its mane disheveled and whiplashed. You also notice it's been crying, indicated by the dried up tear streaks on its face.

You don't know what compelled  you to move your hand to its mane, but you did. You began to stroke its mane, causing it to stir slightly from your touch. This stir was enough to free your leg a bit from its prison. As you move your leg away, it tries to latch onto it, wrapping its hooves around it like a child with a teddy bear.

Even though the pegasus was attacking your leg, you couldn't help but smile at the scene.

As you finally give in to its shenanigans, you realize it was actually awake the whole time. Its eyes resembled an ember, full of energy. It looked at you, saying in a feminine tone,

"I love you Chance."

She then purrs, snuggling into you.

When you heard this, you felt conflicted. You knew this was a dream, but if it wasn't would you love her back even if she was a pegasus?

...

You would say it would be against your morals, however; this is a dream so you can do whatever you want right?

You decide to play along with the gimmick saying,

"I love you too Spitfire."

For some reason...her name appeared in your mind, as if you knew her all along. As you look at her, she looks at you with an appearance of shock.

With that...

You both scream, waking you from your dream.

You wake up in cold sweat, trying to figure out how you dreamt of a creature such as that. It talked, had wings, and acted just like a human woman would.

Calm down Chance...it was only a dream...

You sigh and slowly get off the couch, tip toeing out of the room to make sure you didn't wake Nice, who passed out on the recliner. You carefully walk into the bathroom and gently close the door. You look yourself in the mirror and continue to murmur the same phrase,

"It was just a dream..."

Each time you did it, you changed personalities. You alternated between different characters of movies such as Indiana Jones, Sherlock Holmes, David 'Miller', and a few others. You also tried a variety of different tones, ranging from sad to mysterious. It was quite a show you did.

After going through your stages of failed excuses of imitations, you sigh and slowly put your hand to the mirror. As you looked away with a pained expression, you look down and sigh. You've never felt so stressed out over a dream. The dream, felt so real...so comforting yet scary.

If you were looking up, you would be seeing the mirror give off an orange glow. Unfortunately, the ground was more appealing, causing you not to see the radiance.

So the 'radiance' decided to give you a wake-up call, sending you a shot of pain. When you feel the pain course through your veins, you wince and look up.

Now you see it...

The orange glow, wrapped around your hand like a glove. Only...there wasn't a glove and it wasn't made of a physical material. You were in awe of the spectacle, unsure of what to do. You could pull your hand away from it, cutting the connection of it; or you could wait to see what happens.

Since your last name is Chance, you choose the latter. You continue to watch the lightshow, its glow varying between different hues similar to the colors of a...

flame...

The realization hits you head on and you're not even applying it directly to the forehead...

It was Spitfire's colors.

As you realize it's her, you feel the presence start to fade. You look up to see the glow beginning to shimmer, fading into a gray hue.

You look at your and move your left hand away from the mirror slowly.

In an instant, the room is engulfed in a white flash. You bring your arms to your face, covering your eyes from the intense light.

As seconds tick, the glow leaves the room, leaving you alone in the bathroom once again. You sigh and look into the mirror again. What you see shocks you.

A message was written on the mirror. It states:

'The Park. Seven O'Clock. No One Else.'

You're shocked by the message to say the least. You couldn't move your gaze away from the image. You continued to stare at it, before giving into boredom and move away. You're about to leave the bathroom, but you turn back to see if the

message still stands.

You look and see...

The message is gone.

You shrug and leave the room, turning off the light as you exit.

That didn't happen...it was just a joke pulled by Nice or something.

You sigh and enter your bedroom, too exhausted to even consider tip-toeing for Nice's sake. You plop onto your bed, ignoring the covers. You begin to drift off again, awaiting dreamland.

Hopefully my dreams don't torture me about this...

Unfortunately for you, they did.