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Firefighters: A Narrative Fiction

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"Um, why are you burying him again?" I asked for the tenth time in the past hour.

Being someone who had witnessed two deaths in front of my eyes and had been the culprit behind it as well, I didn't find anything remotely amusing about burying an alive person. It was plain ridiculous and insensitive. Still, the four guys stared at me as if I had proposed a stupid question. And they were the ones digging the burial ground at a cemetry at seven in the evening.

"Obviously, if we leave him alone, he'll wake up and get us in trouble," said Max, the black haired one with long bangs. "Anyways, we'll only bury him halfway--just up to his nipples. He won't die."

I didn't even know how to respond.

"And this old man already has a bad history with …show more content…

"Never say never," Nico said.

I rolled my eyes and he started the car with a smile. Was a Bieber fan? The drive to my house only lasted for five minutes and I was grateful for that. Before getting out, I asked, "Are your friends going to help?"

"Don't worry, I'll convince them," Nico assured.

"Thanks," I sighed. But one question tugged at the back of my head. "Why are you helping me, though?" A different type of smile came across his face. It was so soft and innocent.

"Helping beautiful girls is a hobby of mine."

Him and his flirting.

I thought he was going to say something more meaningful.

"Good night," I said and got out of the car.

He rolled his window down as I walked to my house. "You remind me of someone," he called after me. Knowing he was probably sputtering nonsense, I ignored him. "There's not a better feeling than making someone else happy!"

Like by burying someone alive?

I slammed my front door behind me.

Time to tackle worse things . . . such as AP Spanish.

¤》¤《¤

Nico didn't contact me again the rest of the week which worried me slightly. Nevertheless, I continued with my investigation and decided to approach the matter from the seventh breakup. Then, I might figure out the …show more content…

Is it me you're looking for?" His laughter followed behind his cheesy line.

"Yes," I answered. "Are you Amish?" It was a spontaneous way to start an important conversation.

There was silence for a brief moment. "No, I don't think so. My parents died a long time ago, so I can't even ask them." He sounded very casual as he spoke. "Granny might know, but, you know, she's old and can't hear sh--"

"Sorry," I interjected before he could keep rambling. I didn't realize my question would achieve me that response from him. My response suddenly felt so dry and generic. "Sorry, the question wasn't actually serious," I explained awkwardly.

"No worries. What were you saying about the Amish?"

"I need to--er--well, I need to visit the Amish community. Just for a bit, but I need someone to come with me. Nolan and I sort of ruined our reputation there, so if I go alone, I have a high chance of getting in trouble, but if a new face comes with me, I might be able to get what I want without causing a World World III."

"You want me?"

"Yes."

"But I'm already yours," he said, his tone laced with amusement. I literally facepalmed myself with a pillow. This guy couldn't take anything seriously.

"You know what? Never mind.

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