Paris in Flames

By asheniel

Abby nodded and cleared her throat. "Okay, then on the count of three…one….two…three…"

Johnny concentrated on his wish, squeezing his eyes shut and imagining huge banners and streamers and balloons and clowns and cotton candy as he clutched the marijuana joint between his fingers.

"Now we gotta light them," Abby instructed. "Open your eyes." He did so, and she reached forward and lit the end of his, than hers. It glowed a fierce orange, than wispy plumes of smoke rose from it. "Quick—you gotta suck it in—like this," Abby said, taking a deep draw. Johnny immediately imitated her, and was almost instantly overwhelmed by a wave of nausea and a hot, throbbing pain in his throat. Black swam into the corners of his vision and the small room spun around him, and he fought the urge to throw up. "Abby…" He mumbled, feeling sick. "I think…I think I'm gonna…is this what's supposed to happen?" She didn't reply, and he glanced over at her, his stomach roiling queasily. "…Abby?"

"What?" She demanded, glaring fiercely at him, though her face was shiny with perspiration and she was gripping her arms so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her skin was a pale grayish color, and she, too, looked like she was ready to vomit.

"Is that how it was supposed to be?"

Abby glowered at him, her face pallid. "I don't know. Maybe…maybe that means our wishes came true."

"Yeah…" Johnny nodded slowly, his vision steadying. "Yeah…now they definitely worked, didn't they?"

"Uh-huh," Abby agreed. They were silent for several minutes. The extinguished marijuana joints lay innocently on the floor between them, and carefully, Abby picked them and stuck them inside her pocket.

"That was cool, wasn't it?" She said finally, turning to Johnny with a broad smile lighting her features.

He stared at her. "I…well…was it supposed to hurt like that?" He asked dubiously.

Abby rolled her eyes, a contemptuous smirk playing on her lips. "You're such a baby," she said tauntingly, "it hardly hurt at all. You were just afraid."

"I was not!" Johnny retorted, his cheeks flushing. "You were scared! You got all white and stuff."

"I didn't," Abby replied coolly, frowning. "I think you're just embarrassed."

Johnny glowered at her. "You're a liar."

Abby shrugged nonchalantly, and turned away. "I don't care what you think. I'm gonna do it again someday, without you." She smirked at him. "With someone that's not so scared, like you are."

Johnny opened his mouth to retort, but Abby interrupted him. "You know what I think, Johnny?"

He frowned sulkily. "I don't care."

"I think that was real romantic," Abby continued, ignoring him. "I think we should kiss, 'cause it was so romantic."

Johnny stared at her, baffled by her sudden change of subject. "I don't want to kiss you."

Abby nodded in agreement. "I don't want to kiss you neither, but when you do something romantic, you gotta kiss. It's what you're supposed to do."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm smarter than you are," Abby replied impatiently. "You'll have to kiss someone one day, and when you have to, you don't want no one thinkin' that that's only the first time you did it. Otherwise, they probably won't like you anymore."

Johnny frowned doubtfully. "Who told you that?"

Abby rolled her eyes, exasperated. "My boyfriend. He's very smart."

"Oh…" Johnny pondered this for a moment. "Do I have to kiss you?"

Abby glared at him. "Johnny, I'm being very forgiving, because I already know that you've never kissed a girl before. I'm just trying to help un-embarrass you. I don't want to kiss you, you know. Besides, if my boyfriend found out, he would be real mad."

"Okay…" Johnny said slowly, slightly confused. "Okay," he repeated. "What do I gotta do?"

Abby nodded, pleased. "You have to close your eyes and make your lips like this." She demonstrated, and he followed her example. "Now you can remember me forever," Abby said brightly, then darted forward and pecked him quickly on the lips, and drew back.

Johnny opened his eyes, overcome by a slow shyness as he watched color set into Abby's cheeks. They looked at one another and giggled, both feeling unnaturally giddy. They didn't speak for several minutes, too busy avoiding each other's furtive glances.

"We can't tell anyone about this, okay?" Abby said finally. "It's a secret."

Johnny nodded in agreement, fixing a solemn expression on his face. "It's a secret," he echoed, then added, "you better not go around telling no one."

Abby glared indignantly at him. "Why would I tell anyone?"

"You have a real big mouth."

"I do not," Abby retorted. "You're the one that's never kissed anyone before. I wouldn't be surprised if you went around telling everybody."

Johnny glowered at her. "No I wouldn't."

"Yeah, right," Abby sneered, rolling her eyes disbelievingly. "I think we should take an oath. That way, you have to swear not to tell anyone."

"Yeah," Johnny agreed, nodding vigorously. "What's the oath?"

Abby tapped her chin thoughtfully. "We should sign our names in blood."

Johnny opened his mouth, ready to oppose this, but snapped it shut when a smirk rose to Abby's lips again when she noted his expression. "Fine," he said boldly.

Abby nodded approvingly. "Okay. We need some paper, though."

"Don't you have any?"

She shook her head. "No."

Johnny shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Oh. Then what should we do?"

Abby sighed, disappointed. "There's no other oath we can do that would be as good as that one." She pouted, racking her brain for other equally gruesome schemes. "We could…we could sacrifice someone."

"What's that?"

Abby smiled twistedly. "It's when you kill someone and use their blood to sign the oath."

"We don't have any paper," Johnny said quickly.

Abby sighed, disappointed. "There's no oaths that we can do, then," she said, pouting. "How will I know if you'll go around telling people?"

"I'm not gonna," Johnny replied defensively. "How'm I supposed to know that you won't go around telling people?"

Abby rolled her eyes, not bothering to retort. "I think…hey—" she rose up, her expression brightening. "We can have a secrecy oath."

"What's that?"

"It's not as good as sacrifice or anything," she explained, "but it's okay, I guess. What you gotta do is we both have to tell each other our biggest secrets ever. Like stuff you would never tell anybody, ever. Then if one of us breaks the oath, than the other can tell their worst secret, too."

"Um…okay," Johnny said, shrugging. At least it was better than signing his name in blood. "You go first."

Abby nodded, satisfied. "Okay. I need to think about it, though."

"Okay. I'll think too."

They sat in silence for several minutes.

"I got it," Abby said finally, sitting up straighter. "But I already told you a lot of secret things, so mine doesn't have to be that secret."

"That's not fair—" Johnny started to argue, but Abby waved him quiet.

"I don't have any other secrets, anyway," she said impatiently. "This is my most secret thing I remember."

"Fine."

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell anybody this," she began, reducing her voice to a low and conspiring whisper. "My boyfriend made me swear a million times. But—" she smiled obligingly, "—I'm not gonna lie or nothin' about my biggest secret." She paused importantly, and continued. "Sometimes my boyfriend makes me do dirty things."

Johnny let out a low breath, slightly disappointed at the slightly uninteresting nature of her worst secret. "Dirty things like what?"

"I don't know. He told me that they're not dirty, but I know they are." She stared at Johnny seriously. "I told my brother once, and he said no one has no business making me do things like that and got real mad. I think he wanted to kill my boyfriend." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "But I wouldn't let him, because my boyfriend doesn't know that I know that they're dirty, so it's not really his fault. My brother, he said that no one got no business touching me, 'cause I'm not old enough. He said I better tell my boyfriend to quit it, otherwise he's gonna be real mad." She glanced at Johnny. "He doesn't know how nice my boyfriend is to me. He hardly never yells at me like my brother's always doing. And he's real brave, trying to protect me from my dad and all. And he gives me presents. My brother never does that. He just tells me that he don't want to be around my boyfriend anymore." She rolled her eyes. "He's always ordering me around and hittin' me real hard. I don't like him all that much."

Johnny nodded. "Did he make you stop seeing your boyfriend?"

Abby scowled. "He tried to fight my boyfriend, but my boyfriend beat him up real good. After that, he quit yelling at me about that. He's still real mean to me, though, and he's always beating on me if I don't do what he tells me to do."

"Oh."

"Yeah, but I don't care," Abby said boldly, sticking out her chest defiantly. "I don't gotta listen to him, just 'cause he's older. He thinks he knows everything, but he really doesn't. Me, I'm gonna tell him someday, when he can't knock me down for sayin' it." She grinned. "Maybe one day, I'll beat him up, just to give him a taste of his own medicine."

Johnny nodded vigorously. "Yeah. I'm gonna do the same thing, with my parents. They're always ordering me around, too. One day when I'm all grown up, I'll come back and show them." He paused. "And I'm not ever gonna do that to Kelly, either. I'm gonna be real nice to her and let her do whatever she wants. And I won't be yelling at her at all."

"Yeah," Abby agreed, "I'll help you. We can be her Ma and Dad. We won't be mean at all."

"I'm always gonna let her have birthday parties," Johnny countered, "and she can invite whoever she wants and she'll have cotton candy to eat, all the time."

Abby giggled. "I think we would be great parents, Johnny."

Johnny nodded in agreement. "Yeah. A whole lot better than my mom and dad, or yours."

They were quiet for several minutes, both imagining the great lives that they would live, and provide, for their children.

"Now you hafta tell me your biggest secret," Abby said finally, breaking the silence. She sat up, leaning forward so that her elbows nearly touched the floor. "It has to be your biggest."

Johnny nodded slowly, leaning in as well. He already knew what he was going to tell her, and his insides were quivering with intermingled apprehension and excitement. It was something that he had never told anyone, nor did he ever have any intention. But now, encouraged by the stalwart openness of the girl sitting before him, somehow he felt that his secret was an unnecessary one, one that need not be a secret. Perhaps, in comparison to the incredible drama with which Abby told her stories in, his own seemed miniscule and undramatic, in his own eyes. He wanted to tell her something to amaze her, astound her, impress her; because that was what she had done to him.

He elicited a long, low breath, and fixed his gaze upon Abby, who was watching him in anticipation. "Now you can't tell anybody," he began in a loud stage whisper, "because then a million bad things can happen. I could even get killed, or locked up. You would be, too, because it's so bad."

"Okay, okay," Abby said impatiently, waving her hand. "I won't tell anybody. Hurry up already."

"Okay," Johnny said. "Well, I can…I found out—I realized I--…" He paused, unsure of how to explain his greatest secret to her. "I can…do this one thing. That I don't think no one else can." He glanced up at Abby, who was staring at him through curious eyes.

"What?" She demanded. "What is it?"

"I can…I can…do scary things," Johnny said, feeling slightly nervous. To his dismay, he had broken into a fine sweat, and Abby's sharp gaze wasn't helping. He concentrated on the floor. "I can…do scary things…with fire." Almost frightened, he peered up to see Abby's reaction.

"Huh?" She said loudly, frowning. "What do you mean, you can do scary things with fire?"

"I mean…I can…do things. I can do things that I don't think no one else can."

Abby gave him a dubious and wholly unimpressed look. "Like what?"

"Well…like…I don't know, it just happens," Johnny stammered, his cheeks getting hot. "If I think real hard, I can make the fire go…where I want it to."

Abby stared at him, irritated. "I think you're lying," she said accusingly, "I think you're lying 'cause you don't want to tell me your biggest secret." She glowered fiercely at him. "You can't lie, Johnny. I told you my biggest secret. You have to tell me yours."

"I am!" Johnny said defensively, flushing. "I am! I'm not lying, Abby!"

"You're a great big liar," Abby said harshly, ignoring him, "and you won't even tell me even though you promised. I hate you."

"I'm not lying," Johnny cried angrily, "I'll show you! I'll show you what I can do!" When Abby pretended not to hear him, he grabbed her shoulder and shook it roughly. "I'm gonna show you! Then you'll see I'm not lying."

Abby tossed him an incredulous look. "Fine. Show me."

"Okay." Johnny took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He took the candle that sat between them with both hands, carefully fixating his eyes upon the whitish flame. It flickered slightly, and he stared at it for several minutes, unblinking, even as his eyes started to burn and tear up. He could see Abby glaring at him beyond the candle, but he forced himself to concentrate on the brightness, narrowing his eyes until all he could see was a brilliant white.

"Nothing's happening," Abby said impatiently, sighing loudly.

Johnny ignored her, blinking away the water that had accumulated in his eyes. The flame flickered once, then again. He wasn't sure what he was trying to do or even how he would do it, but somehow he could feel a weirdish adrenaline that rushed through his system as his focus upon the flame increased, and with the adrenaline came a certain energy that drew the flame within reach of his mind so that he could—almost—control it.

The flame flickered again. His eyes burned; so much that he almost cried out or removed his gaze from the flame entirely. Then it started to flicker faster and faster and faster, so fast that it was gyrating about crazily in frenzied circles, and started to stretch higher and higher. Johnny blinked, astounded, and though he had lost his concentration, the flame was still dancing frantically and snaking towards the ceiling. It burned a blinding white, and Johnny gazed past it at Abby, his heart pounding wildly and a broad smile growing on his face.

"See?" He cried, his eyes shining, "see? I wasn't lying, Abby! I can do it! Look what I did! I made the fire move, Abby! I wasn't lying!" He looked at her, somehow expecting her to burst into laughter, or applause, or shouts of enthusiasm. Instead, she was eyeing him with an uncertain, almost wary look in her eyes. She didn't say anything at all, and for a moment they just stared at one another. The flame continued to rise, and was now grazing the low ceiling, although Johnny had long since removed his gaze from it.

"Johnny?" Abby said faintly, her lips barely moving as she spoke. Her eyes drifted across the glaring flame and she lowered her gaze with a weird, subdued passiveness. "I think…you're a lunatic." Then she bit her lip as if she was about to cry, and stared at the floor.

Johnny stared at her, not comprehending. "But…Abby! I did do it! You saw it yourself, didn't you…?" He trailed off, his eyes wide. "Abby…I did do it. You saw it, I know you did."

The flame was thickening, licking gently at the wooden planks. The air hung with an almost gummy feel to it, dense with smoke, although the trapdoor still lay open, and perspiration clung to the back of Johnny's T-shirt. He stared at Abby, vainly attempting to decipher the illegible expression on her face, suddenly feeling extremely afraid. "Abby?"

"You're crazy," she said flatly. "I'm not staying here anymore."

Johnny gaped at her, aghast. "But…Abby, you saw it. I did it—why don't you believe me?"

Abby's lip trembled. "I believe you, but you're still crazy and you better put that fire out now and get out of here and never talk to me again."

Johnny stared, feeling sick to his stomach, like someone had just knocked the wind out of him. "No…it's not like that," he started to explain, his voice shaking, "it's not…I'm not crazy. I don't do it on purpose…"

Abby bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to scream or cry. "Get out of here."

Johnny started to protest again, feeling almost nauseated by the chilling behavior of his—friend. "Abby…"

"Get out!" Abby was shaking violently now, her face reduced to a doughy gray color. "Get out get out get out! Get out!"

Johnny bolted to his feet and scrambled toward the trapdoor, brushing past the still-burning flame, and suddenly all too aware of his painfully stinging eyes and the harsh smell of scorching wood.

"Put out the fire!" Abby screamed, grabbing his arm abruptly. Through the hazy cloud of smoke, her eyes shone with intermingled terror and animosity, and Johnny wrenched himself free, his heart pounding wildly.

"I can't! I don't know how!" Then he pulled himself up the trapdoor and started running toward the stairs, too panicked to comprehend what was happening. As he yanked open the heavy door and was engulfed in a refreshing flood of sunlight, Abby started to scream behind him. He hesitated, and turned around as she emerged from the trapdoor, her thin face streaked with sweat and contorted with rage. "You ruined it!" She shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at Johnny, who stood frozen in the doorway, haloed by light. "You ruined it! You're a lunatic! You ruined my hide-out and you're crazy! You—I'm gonna—just go away! Get out of here!" Then she burst into tears as flames started to chew away at the trapdoor. "Go away!" She started to run at him when he remained rooted at the spot, so he turned and ran as well; out the door, out the building, through the empty field littered with rusted dumpsters.

He ran blindly, tears blurring his vision and his own heart pounding so loudly that it swallowed up all other sounds. He didn't look behind him to see if Abby had gotten out, just went on running as fast as he could, not slowing down until he reached his own backyard. For a fleeting second, he remembered his wish and even felt slightest twinge of hope that it had come true.

A loud roar of laughter greeted him, and he turned, his eyes still burning, in the direction of the back porch, where his father and the other men sat, drinking beers and smoking cigarettes. They either ignored him or didn't notice him, and as Johnny stood there, still reeling with shock and exhaustion from his sprint, he noticed that his mother was still visible through the kitchen window, half-drunk with a cigarette dangling from her lip. She was laughing.

Johnny took a step in the direction of the house, his heart still throbbing in his ears. A decaying fire wavered feebly from the grill that was perched in the middle of the yard. Perspiration dripped into his eyes, and he wiped it away stiffly, carefully uncomprehending of how little time had passed. Thirty minutes? Thirty seconds? Had he never left at all? Why—he gazed at his parents, watching in morbid fascination as they smoked their cigarettes and drank their beers—why, when the world had just toppled and burned before his very eyes, why did they not notice?

He started to call out to them, because at the moment, he wanted someone to comfort him, even though that someone would be his parents. But the hoarse cry died in his throat as he watched them so that all he could do was stand there and stare, eyes wide.

Minutes passed and the sun was just starting to set before his mother came out to him, still clutching her cigarette, although she had relieved herself of all motherly concern earlier that evening. "What the hell are you doing?" She demanded, grabbing his shoulder. "Johnny? Johnny? Look at me!" She gave him a rough shake and he looked at her, suddenly feeling extremely tired, as if he had been standing there for days. "What's wrong with you?"

Johnny shook his head and bit his lip, lowering his gaze back to the ground. "Just tired," he whispered. "Can I go to bed now?"

She stared at him incredulously. "What? Where the hell have you been? Did you know that you let the burgers burn? Where did you go?"

Johnny shook his head again, fiercely biting back the familiar tears. "I was…tired."

She narrowed her eyes. "Where were you?"

Johnny shrugged, looking away. "I was tired," he repeated, unconvincingly.

She gaped, her eyes darkening. Grabbing both of his shoulders, she forced him to face her. "I will ask you one more time, Johnny. Where the hell were you?"

Johnny trembled and focused on the grill with the dying fire, the orange flames fluttering helplessly across the blazing embers. "I was…doing stuff."

There was a moment of furious silence, and then his mother slapped him across the face. "If you ever run off without getting permission again, I'll have your father take the belt to you. Understand?"

Johnny nodded slowly, his cheek stinging and starting to swell. He bit his lip hard, swallowing his tears. "I understand…Mom."

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then let go of him. "Watch the fire. When I come and get you, you can go to bed." She turned on her heel and headed back toward the house, leaving her son standing there, touching his cheek gently and gazing after her. Then he looked at the fire. It trembled, nearly dead, and Johnny felt a sudden warmth rush through his veins as he watched the weakly flickering flames. Casually, they swelled and rose higher as Johnny looked at them, not concentrating, barely even noticing them. As they cleared his own height, the flames started to tilt toward the house, lusting to devour this apprentice of hell. No one noticed.

Then the fire hissed, like air being sucked into a vacuum, and died. Johnny sat down in front of it.

end of story

::Authors Notes:: I finally finished it! The ending's kind of anticlimatic, but…it's better than Johnny going insane and blowing everyone up, right? Just what I thought. ^-^ Um…reviews are good! But if you want a little explanation about Abby, read on.

-A Note on Abby- I'm not sure if this was made clear enough in the story, but Abby's a girl that's (obviously) surrounded by abusive relationships from all sides: her father, brother, and "boyfriend". It's not completely fair to say that any are outright abuse, though—her brother, for example, clearly cares for his younger sister, but chooses physically violent ways to display his caring. Her "boyfriend", as well, watches out for her as an older brother would, but also takes advantage of her innocence by "making her do dirty things," as she put it. I just wasn't sure if that was obvious enough.