Socrates stumbled out of his tiny cabin perched at the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea. His breath was high, and he coughed like he had tuberculosis, his eyes red and with water and his skin drenched with sweat.
He stood at the top of the cliff overlooking the moon kissing the silver liquid that stretched underneath him. Then he took deep breaths, breaths that felt like he had just been saved from drowning as the cool sea breeze massaged his rough, scaly skin. He sniffed but couldn't perceive any smoke, then he shook his head and bent over, resting his hands on his knees.
He had an attack again.
It always comes like a dream that has him feeling like he was trapped inside a burning building, choking on the scent of thick smoke, the ones that cling to clothes and crawl up your chest with nowhere to run to. One of the crazy effects he has to live with for being a former fireman for many years.
He had seen a doctor and even a voodoo man, but with all the pills and concoctions he was given, it still didn't lessen the nightmares but rather worsened.
Tonight, he saw a memory that had left him with guilt which he feared he could live with all his life. A memory that made him quit his job and wish he wasn't among the first responders that night. A memory that he wished he could somehow sleep one day and lose memory of everything.
He sat on the floor of his cabin porch as the flashbacks came again fighting his sanity. He remembered as he charged up the stairs of that burning building with his colleague. Fighting breathlessly, trying to stop the fire with the intention that the building has been cleared of survivors.
But then he heard voices in the raging fire, crying and screaming for help. He fought his way to the room, where he saw a mother, father, and their young boy of about two years cuddled in a corner, with the father serving as a blanket, protecting his family from the burning flames. Their eyes were filled with terror and fear.
"Hey, I'm Socrates, and I'll get you out of here," he said to them, rubbing the scared little boy's head.
"What's his name?" he asked the parents.
"Jimmy", the father replied, still holding onto his family tightly. He was already burnt on his arm by the flame, Socrates noticed.
To Jimmy, "Hi Jimmy. Hey, how are you holding up?" He asked the little boy, trying to wear a smile on his face and sound hopeful.
"I'm scared," Jimmy said with a shaky voice.
"It's okay to be scared. We're all scared, but I promise to get you and your parents out of here" Socrates assured him. However, he found that hard to believe himself as the flames were gas flames and too hard to fight.
Jimmy nodded.
With the bravery of a true fireman, Socrates stood and fought the flames around them, trying to create space, but as he fought, the flames enclosed quickly, cutting off the only entrance he tried creating for their escape.
Trapped in that fire, he called for help from his colleagues who were fighting their way through the fire to them but couldn't too. He stood there thinking he would die together with the family.
Lost in thought he felt the father suddenly grab his arm and whispered, “Please, save them if you can’t save me.”
Socrates stood there confused. He had seen people show emotions in his line of work whenever he tried to save them, but he hadn't seen one as the father who was willing to sacrifice himself so that his family would be saved.
With that as a motivation, Socrates suddenly got an idea. He was going to save them all.
With his axe, he broke the wall that demarcated them from the next room. Luckily, it wasn't up in flames like the one they were in. But a part of the floor between them had been cut off by the fire leaving only a tiny beam that wasn't strong enough to carry the weight of them all.
Taking the risk, he jumped over to the shaky beam, but as he turned to pull the family over one after the other, his colleagues were already waiting to grab them to a safe space. The fire had also enclosed them again, cutting him off from them. All he could see and hear were flames, voices shouting, and a kid crying. He called out to them severally, trying to find his way back in. But the flames were too much, and his colleagues held him back.
"There's nothing we can do for them anymore, Socrates. It's a gas leak; the more we fight it, the stronger it gets." his colleagues yelled, holding him back.
"But we can at least try," he cried, struggling to get back into the burning building.
"They won't make it out. We've got to go; the building will soon explode," another colleague said.
He almost gave up, but as he turned to run with his colleagues, he heard the voice of the father yell from the other side of the flame.
"Please, at least save my son" Then he saw the young boy thrown out to him through the flame towards him. Luckily, his reflexes were great as he quickly caught the boy. Immediately, the building exploded, sending him feet away as he landed on the floor with the boy safely enclosed in his arms. He hit his head hard on the floor.
He woke up a few days later at the hospital with his station captain sitting next to him.
"Glad you could join the living again" the Captain joked as he saw Socrates blink his eyes open.
Socrates winced In pain trying to understand where he was.
"What's going on? "How did I get...." he tried asking, but somehow he remembered how he got there. "The boy? I need to see the boy," he asked, trying to stand, but he felt his head spin. Then he quit and lay back down.
"You don't have to worry about that. The boy is fine. Just worry about yourself and getting better," The Captain replied, standing up.
"If only I had gotten there sooner, maybe his parents would still be alive," he said.
"It was never your fault, Socrates. Don't feel guilty".
A tear dropped from Socrates's eyes.
"How long do I have to stay here?" he asked.
Putting on his cap, the Captain replied, "Till you're strong" Then he tapped Socrates and walked out of the room.
Socrates got better and got back to work. But the incident left a big scar on him as with every fire fight he fought with his colleagues he always had panic attacks of that night. He tried seeking solutions from his doctor severally but it got worse with each mission.
He was eventually relieved of his job because they couldn't trust him for his safety and that of his colleagues on firefighting missions.
To fight his new demons, he decided to live closer to the only enemy a fire has: water. And that was how he got to live closer to the sea. But still, it felt like his demons kept winning.
Now he lived his life with guilt and regrets.
Guilty for not fighting off his colleagues and going back into that fire to save the family. And regrets what he could have done better to save the family and maybe his sanity, which he was losing now.
He stood up and looked into the calm sea. Then he sighed, maybe one day he'll find his peace like the calm sea at night. But that night, he didn't care about letting the sea watch him in his weakness.
