It had begun at my neck and spread out slowly, blazing a trail through my heart, my chest and arms, stomach and feet. Only a small prickling sensation at first, it had quickly increased to the feeling of thousands of sharp knives stabbing at my insides, fighting to break through its fleshy prisons and be free, until it finally felt as if I was being burnt alive on top of a slow burning fire. I'd wanted to scream and realised that I could, but for some reason my mouth did not move. I'd heard the scream – so bloodcurdling and so unlike myself – but I couldn't feel my mouth moving; as if it had been immobile the entire time. I didn't have time to dwell on this, though – at the same moment a sharp, stinging pain – like someone was reaching into me and trying to rip out my heart – shot through my spine, crawling up to my heart and setting my whole chest alight. I screamed again, my mouth still unmoving yet the bellows still perfectly audible, and before I knew it my back was arched, and my fingernails were clawing at the object underneath me. This, too, I didn't register. One second I was laying flat, feeling the excruciating pain going through me – the next, I was elevated to the point that I thought my back would break. There was no period of time between these occurrences, not even a second. It was instantaneous.

Or perhaps I simply didn't remember the time in between.

That would certainly be a plausible explanation as to what was happening to me right now. After all, how could such things have happened without my knowledge of them? No, there had to have been time in between. It was impossible to be anything otherwise.

A thousand questions ran through my mind, and the more I tried to answer them, the more confusing they became. I screamed again as a new pain, a more agonizing one, hit me. It originated in my throat without warning, an unbearable burning that felt as if it was trying to crawl up my windpipe and escape through my mouth. And then, another sensation – a curious, tingling one, yet still as fierce – began where the burning had, overwhelming me like waves of an ocean. Suddenly, ever fibre of my being was alert and sensitive, set alight by this curious prickling. It was like hunger, but when I thought of food I instantly felt repulsed. Confused as ever, I desperately tried to understand what it was my body wanted. It turned into thirst, then. My whole throat was on fire, scorching and parched, as if I hadn't drunk anything for weeks. Again, when I tried to think of things that would quench this overwhelming thirst, I was disgusted. My body was repelling the one thing it needed! My mind swam with even more questions.

I heard a scream – sudden, shrill – but it sounded muffled, as if it was coming from a distance. I struggled to put a name to it, but I couldn't think properly through the pain. Perhaps it was Edward's...

Edward. As soon as the name had entered my mind, I felt another pang, but not a pain that stung my insides and set my heart on fire, like the current one was. It was a longing.

I was about to yell his name, call him to my side and comfort me, hoping that he would be able to quell the pain, but at that moment an agony, more fierce than anything else I'd experienced of yet – a pain far, far worse than the burning in my throat or the stabbing at my skin. It was behind my eyes, like someone had reached into my skull and was clawing away at my sockets, fighting to break through. It was unbearable. And, just when I thought I was going to drift into insanity, another instantaneous noise, a whisper, escaped my throat; my back arched and my fingers clawed at the thing underneath me once again, and it was too late that I felt the word slide over my lips, unfamiliar and disturbing:

"Fire..."

The word faded into nothingness, and I screamed again. This time, I could feel a pair of hands scratching fiercely at my scalp, my hair – it was over too soon before I realised that they were my hands. Again, I heard noises; muffled, distant, but definitely there. The sounds were coming closer, and I could just make out the rapid footfalls of someone walking towards me. The person drew nearer and nearer, until I could sense them inches away from me, possibly next to me on the floor – or wherever I was.

Then, in another burst of pain, I felt the fire spreading through my face, as if under my skin, until I felt it break through my nostrils, hot and burning. And, once the fire had subsided for a while, it was as if my sinuses had been cleared. I could smell.

And I smelt him, then. Edward was beside me, the delicious scent of his skin that I remembered so vividly, wafting through the air and arousing my senses in a way I never knew possible.

It was now that I noticed my eyes were still closed. I opened them and I knew I could move them about – in the same instantaneous bursts that everything else occurred in – but all I could see was blackness. There were no real images, no faces or furniture or animals or anything – just black. I added this to my list of confusions. Had I gone blind? Maybe that was what the pain was doing, getting right of my sight. But then, if that was the case, how could I explain the instantaneous movements?

I didn't like this inability to see. It scared me, like nothing ever had before. The pain I could handle, as confusing and disturbing as it was, but my sight I could not go without. I felt wrinkles crease my forehead, my brain registering the action with the same lagging reflexes as before, and I knew without having to be told that my eyes were filled with terror. Slowly, shakily, I stretched a hand out and tried to feel for his face, his hand, his arm – anything. A shock wave went through my body when I touched his face – his cheek? – and I immediately scrabbled at his skin with my fingers, the movements jerky because of the pain that was surging through me. His skin felt cool, like he'd been submerging them in a bucket of ice for hours, or camping out in the middle of a snowstorm; it felt soothing. It was literally as if the fire was being put out by the cool of Edward's skin.

I wanted more, but I could think of no way to tell him without being interrupted by fiery anguish; desperately, I applied the slightest pressure on Edward's face, trying to draw him down to my level so that he could soothe the burning on my face – my eyes, my nose, my lips. But once he was closer, all I could choke out was that one word, that barely audible whisper of despair:

"Fire..."

Obviously, Edward didn't understand. I groaned, half from the pain, half in despair, and shuddered as flames exploded in my chest again. I wanted him to understand. Miraculously, I was able to form words – albeit, in gasps – that I hoped he would interpret correctly.

"F-Fire...Edward it b-burns...burning, E-Edward..."

But the only thing that remained cool was my hand on his cheek. Feeling as though the whit-hot pokers stabbing at my skin were going to burst through at any moment, and more desperate than ever, I applied more pressure on his cheek, trying to draw him closer to me and deliver relief.

To my surprise, I heard his velvet voice in my ear, sudden and close. It was muffled slightly, like everything else that I heard was, but I was able to make it out.

"I know it burns, sweetheart, but it'll go away soon. I promise."

I wanted to cry, but somehow the flames had made my tear ducts dry as well. He didn't understand at all. I tried to tell him again, explain it in a different way, but as soon as I opened my mouth another horrid scream escaped, and I felt the fibres of the thing underneath me catching onto my nails as they scraped along it. Too soon, too soon, I felt Edward leave my side, his scent drifting away like the tide. The flames licked at my skin and I gave a pathetic whimper as the darkness that hindered my sight became ever more encompassing. With a pang of nostalgia, I screamed the four letter word once more.

_____________________________**************____________________________

I didn't know how many hours had passed. It might have been days. For the reality was, that time and rational thought, speech, movement – it had all become one frightening, surreal blur. I no longer knew how long I had been screaming for, or for how long the fire had been burning me – all I knew now, was that I was in extreme pain.

Sometimes I heard others screaming, and as time went on their voices became less muffled and more clear, as if they were standing right next to me. Everything else had worsened, rather than improved. The fire and the stabbing had intensified, I still could not keep coherent speech for longer than thirty seconds, and the darkness clouding my sight had not lifted. I could sense changes happening to my body, as well; my heart especially. It was as if it was hardening, like a rock, and I could hear my heartbeats slowing down, faltering as the blood seemed to cease flowing through my body. It was a strange feeling, akin to fatigue but with all the volatility of a barrage of bullets being fired at the body at close range. And the strangest thing was, was that I couldn't control it. Every time I willed my body to stop the bizarre revolt it was launching upon itself, the agony only strengthened, as if it was disobeying on purpose. I was a prisoner, stuck inside my own mind – helpless to the dichotomy raging on inside.

I wondered how long this was going to go on for. I didn't have any memory of when the agony had started – one minute I was lying down, someone's (I couldn't remember who) cool skin on mine; the next, I was clawing at my own flesh and feeling the fire of a thousand suns hit me en masse. There was no use in trying to look for a clock, or ask whoever might be nearby for an estimation on how long this pain was to last. My vision was still shrouded in darkness, and I was still too panicked and aggrieved to form coherent speech. My only hope now was Edward.

I'd tried many times to get his attention, in any way I knew possible, so that he could soothe my burning skin with his cool. All my attempts had been in vain, because no matter how many times I opened my mouth to call him, a scream had replaced any words I could have uttered.

But I was determined to get some sort of relief. The pain had risen to the point that I thought I was going to pass out, and had become unbearable once I'd felt my heart hardening. So in desperation, I screamed shrilly, louder than I'd ever screamed before. Immediately, I smelt the air for any trace of him nearby; nothing. Doggedly, I tried again, this time adding his name onto the end.

It worked. I could smell him moving around, possibly getting up – I wasn't entirely sure – or maybe he was just adjusting his seating position, if he was seated at all. For the thousandth time, I cursed the darkness covering my eyes.

Much to my delight, though, I could sense him coming closer, his scent invading my senses and distilling the pain temporarily. Within seconds, it seemed, he was next to me, speaking words so fast that even with my improved hearing I could not catch them. The burning in my throat had begun again, and this made it very difficult to speak, and no matter how hard I tried I could never properly convey what it was I wanted him to do. Finally, after much confusion on Edward's behalf and much screaming and whimpering on mine, I managed to gasp:

"E–Edward...fire...t–touch m–...ice..."

And then I felt his skin. Such relief! Such wonderful, soothing relief! It was better than I imagined. He trailed his hands lightly along my arms, my face, my shoulders and neck. Everywhere his fingers touched literally put out the fire; such was the temperature of his hands. I could hear my screams faltering, feel my muscles relaxing and the pain subsiding – the latter only lasting for a few seconds. But I didn't care how long it lasted. This was more than enough.

And when I finally gave out and began whimpering once again, and Edward's lips were immediately at my ear, whispering words of comfort – I let my mind wander.

Edward, fire, burning, heart, darkness, ice, Edward, fire, ice...