Disco Inferno

There had been a fire in the disco; people were screaming, the fire exit had been locked; the heat was unbearable. I lost sight of the group that I was with; acrid, choking smoke filled the room.

 Somehow, and I don't know how, I found myself outside the burning building. The emergency services were there in force. Blue lights flashed everywhere; it was almost like being inside again, this time without the fire. Bright yellow flames licked through the roof, contrasting starkly against the dark night sky. With a loud crash, the roof fell in.

 I watched. The fire gradually died down, 'brought under control,' the fire chief said. It all happened quicker than I would have thought. Once the roof had fallen, the flames seemed to wither away. Bodies, some recognisable and familiar to me, were carried out by grim-faced men and put into heaps. These lifeless forms were people whom I had been dancing with an hour ago. Bodies are just thrown into a pile before being taken away. Tagged, for identification. No one saw me there, watching. Watching the lifeless bodies of my friends being taken away.

 When there was no more to see, I thought about returning home. The fire would be reported on the news; my parents would be worried. It was just getting light as I walked to the bus stop. There was nobody else there; I was alone waiting for the bus. The world was not awake yet. A bus came and passed straight by. Well, looking at the state of me, who could blame the driver?

 A young couple joined me at the bus stop. They were so wrapped up in themselves that they ignored me. They only had eyes for each other, all lovey-dovey. A second bus came along; I stood back to let them on first; they didn't even thank me.

 The conductor wandered along, collecting the fares. The young couple paid, joking with the conductor about coming home with the milk. They had no idea of what had gone on that night, of how many lifeless bodies had been removed from the disco; the horrors I had seen. The conductor must have felt sorry for me; he didn't ask me for my fare. Instead, he just sauntered past, whistling, pretending that he hadn't seen me. I must really have looked a mess.

 I hopped off the bus as it slowed by my street. Just as well, really, it didn't look as if the driver had any intention of stopping. Moving toward my house, I noticed a police car outside. The front door was open; I walked in and entered the living room. A policewoman was with my parents. They were all engrossed, and they didn't even notice me. Mum was crying; Dad looked ashen. The policewoman was asking them to go with her.

As they left with her, they walked straight through me.