Flames eat tragedies

Flames by Venne

I know, I know....this piece is slightly dark. But, dark minds can be pretty good sometimes.

My intention here was to explore a different version of the story I presented last week. Go look at the other piece if you don't remember. The previous premise was a young man who was haunted by a girl he loved and was betrayed by. The same holds constant for this story. However, where the other man was in a calm state of agony, this one's in complete chaos. Additionally, the underlying want for a free life has been gutted and replaced with an insatiable need for the peace of death. 

"Insanity"

My fingers grasp the idea on my mind; they hold back the headache that she causes. The chair beneath me is comfy, but this air is suffocating. I grab a math book off of my desk and throw it at the wall to my left. It collides harshly and destroy some of my roommates valuables.
I yell out in frustration. Here come the tears, so hot and unwanted. She should’ve left me alone, but I still chased her. Always, I’m to blame. 

I yell out once more and fall out of my chair harshly. The ensuing pain can’t compare with the murderous affection of my thoughts. “Chris?” says my roommate’s voice from behind the front door. The doorknob jiggles but the diagonally turned lock allows neither exit nor entrance. “Let me in! I can help you!” He shouldn't care so much. After all, caring only leads to pain.

“No,” I state plainly before getting to my feet and throwing my chair across the room. Tears come harder than ever as my blurry eyes scan the room. One of my roommate’s lighters falls into sight. I pick it up. With a flick, an orange flame flickers to life. My finger goes to its center and the calming relief of burning flesh sends relief throughout my body. “This’ll work.” I smirk, my hand already on the door of the fridge.
“Chris!” He still tries to get through the door, but nothing will work. Fate drives this situation.
The fridge is open wide and I pull out a bottle of Absolut. Opening the bottle, my nostrils take a huge wiff before my mouth is granted a decent swig. No matter what I said, he had to keep bringing this shit into the room. Oh well. At least it’ll rid me of her...her....her! I yell out once more as I tear my shirt to shreds.
I pour a bit of the vodka on my desk, take another swig, and stuff a thin, long strip of my shirt into the bottle. With a flick of my thumb, I light the shirt ablaze. My mouth distorted into a devilish grin, I slam the bottle into my desk. Glass flies in multiple directions as the desk becomes soaked and the flame starts to catch. Unsatisfied, I flick my thumb again and put a new flame to spilled alcohol. This time, everything works as it should.
“What’s going on in there?!” My R.A. yells from outside the door. “Open up immediately!” The doorknob jiggles again before bodies start ramming into the door.
“Too late,” I whisper, insanity on my face. The flame has caught onto everything, and I close my eyes in anticipation of the second when my memories of her will die.

Fate drives me.

~Chris