The Fire in His Eyes.

She turned away from the stove for maybe 2 minutes; and in those same 2 minutes oxygen, fuel, and enough energy had eaten her pot alive and escaped to the countertop. She turned 40 seconds after those two minutes; and the fire had trickled to the floor.

 She felt powerless. She felt weak. The fumes from the smoke were starting to get to her head too. She tried grabbing water from the sink, but the fire ran much too close for her to access water without attaining at least a 2nd degree burn.

She pounced back, and in her crazy chaotic train of thoughts speeding at too many miles per minute; one thought stood clear, "If only my tears could take out the fire. But just like the rest of me, they're too weak.."

She surrendered. She was home alone, and could not do it alone.

She knocked the phone off it's hook (it was right next to the sink, which at this rate was seeming as if it circulated fire instead of tap water;) and luckily caught in her hand. She dialed the three numbers and pressed the phose closely to her ear as if it were the one thing she had left. She embraced that phone; her one last shot at hope. The smoke began to choke her lungs harder and harder.

It was if the smoke wrapped around her only chance of life; like a rope wrapped around a person's neck to be hung. She trembled as she choked out to the police, "My house...fire...stove lit up..."

She started feeling a little too woozy, and she sat on the ground. Everything was starting to fade around her-- probably because of the mixture of smoke and panic rising in her system. She had always been sensitive to certain fumes, and now she regretted it more than ever. And she wasn't exactly the best under the pressure of these kinds of situations either.

And that's when her eyes finally blacked out. Her train of chaotic thoughts and panic, were now at peace. But this peace would only cause her to trip into even more danger.

The fire ate away at the tiles, one by one, and slowly began to dance around her feet. she remained blacked out, laying against the cabinets facing the stove, as the fire approached her quickly. Her nerves finally approached her body again, and she woke up. She smelled, felt, and even tasted the fire dashing in her direction.

But she could not get up. It was like a bad dream where you cannot control any part of your body with your mind. It all just kind of...happens. And the heat began to burn her, even though the fire hadn't touched her yet.

And then, if for a split second, the flame had nibbled an inch of her body. She had too much panic to recognize which part.

And suddenly, she was swooped into a ball and lifted off the floor. She felt like she was flying. And off she went, out of the kitchen and out of the door. Her mind began to piece back together as she was layed down on the gurney and pushed into the ambulance truck; with the mysterious force that picked her up following her into the truck. She started to lose all nerves again, but one must of stayed put.

With that nerve, she felt a strong connection to the Force that lifted her. She slowly looked around the truck and found the force. He was covered in yellow, with a red something-or-other on His head (she couldn't tell apart anything at this moment,) to match the red lines spread across the face. The were a much deeper and textured red, and they looked like they were crying as little drops of red trickled down from the lines spread like a torn spider's web across his face. she felt a connection stronger than anything with Him; like He was the only thing she knew was real right now.

she had to say something, anything; to Him. or at motion or show Him some form of connection. she tried to speak, but voice cracked at first; but then she regained confidence in her vocal chords.

"You saved me."

 He looked up from the machine she was plugged into, and smiled. His smile framed the part of her heart she thought had burned away in the fire; a part that she'd never let herself forgive for making that stupid mistake of turning away from the stove. But His smile reminded her, it was still there; this part beating now more than ever.

"Are you okay?" she struggled to ask him. as she started to come back into a somewhat stable sense of mind, she at least could figure out the red lines across his face were not a good sign.

"Yes. and you?" He asked.

"I could be better," she said, and she chuckled. She was surprised she was acting this light-heartedly, especially after realizing she had burned her home down. It must have been the connection with the man again.

"You will be perfectly flawless soon," he nodded at her, checkered face of deep red and all.

 She couldn't understand what He meant by this. All of the sudden; she felt so compelled to talk to this Man; she started blurting out questions that she hadn't even given a second to think about ahead of time.

"Are you really okay? How did you survive the burns?" she asked, recollecting the images. "You rolled into that fire, in my kitchen."

"It was painful, yes," He told her. "But it was worth it."

"Worth it? You have burns and scars, how could that have been worth it?"

He smiled that overwhelming smile again. "I like your questioning. You know, questioning is a sign that deep down underneath, it means you really care."

What does He mean I care? she wondered.

"It is worth it getting any scars saving anyone," He told her. "That's why I was sent here. To save you. It's my joy to do so." She still could not fathom it.

"You find joy, in burning for me; in saving me. In taking my pain away, from the mistake I made from turning away from the stove. I made the mistake, yet; you had to pay the price."

"It's my job," He told her. "I don't always understand why I'm sent where I'm sent, why I must go through the pain I must go through." He started gritting His teeth; she could tell the pain was getting to Him, yet he still keep the sturdy joy and sparkle within His eyes. "I question the chief sometimes, why He sends me to certain places. I don't always know why He forsakes me in this way, by sending me to the most painful fires to fight possible. But, it is my job; and I will do it with everything I can.

"And to see the look on the person's face in the end; that sparkle of relief, surrender, and healing in their eyes--" He looked deep into her eyes.  "--I realize, it is all worth it. To save everyone, to save You."

He grabbed her hand with His scarred hands. She thought for a second she even felt a bare bone in His finger; and couldn't help but shed a few tears. Tears of relief, surrender... and healing.

He had taken the mistake she made, paid the price for her mistake, and asked for nothing in return.

She did not know what else she would do with the rest of her life except to live like this Man.