The Choice

Hey guys,

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been putting more time into “The Baron”, trying hopelessly to do the idea justice on paper. But in the meantime, I’ve written a couple of little pieces influenced by reddits, r/writingprompts. This one was simple. There has to be a choice.

As always I appreciated any thoughts or feedback you might have on the piece.

Hope you enjoy.

Jevan

Lawrence ran out of the burning building, his flame resistant suit on the very edge of its durability, with the material cracking and smouldering in the cool night air. The little boy in his arms was coughing and spluttering, but he was out of the fire now. Out of the danger. As soon as Lawerence’s feet touched the path off of the front porch, The paramedics scooped him up and rushed him away to safety.

Lawrence gulped in a few deep breaths, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog out of his mind. With a few final heavy inhales of air, like a steam engine starting up, he turned around and sprinted back into the house. 

He was oblivious to the crowd that had gathered around the house. 

He was oblivious to the wail of sirens from the emergency vehicles. 

He was oblivious to the roar of the flames. 

He was focused, utterly, on one sound he’d heard.

‘My girl’s still in there.’

He ran straight back in, the heat hitting him like a brick wall. The inferno raged all around him, a furious, twisting, swirling ocean of fire. Smoke flooded in through everywhere, creating an ever-shifting wall that clung to the ceiling. Deeper, he moved into the house, half crouching, half walking with his arms held out in a poor attempt to ward off the vicious flames. It was then, halfway to the stairs, something extraordinary happened.

Time slowed to a crawl. 

The heat from the flames disappeared. The loud crackling of the fire faded to a dull, almost peaceful background noise, like a distant waterfall. Lawrence looked around, his mouth open wide. He watched the fires coil and flicker but he felt nothing.

 ‘I’m hallucinating.’ he thought to himself. ‘Oxygen tank must not be working.‘

He started to move again, when he noticed a man in a long dark overcoat, standing quite carelessly a few paces ahead of him in the hallway. A grey flat cap sat neatly atop his head and a crisp white shirt with a black tie could be seen from underneath the overcoat. In his left hand, he carried a leather-bound book.

None of his clothing was smouldering, even though it should have been. 

There were no beads of sweat on his face or signs of perspiration on his shirt, even though there should have been. 

He looked completely calm, even though he should have been terrified.

“HEY! YOU NEED TO GET OUT-” Lawrence started to shout, not stopping to think how or why the man was standing in front of him. But, before he could carry on, the man held up his hand. Very gently, to stop him talking.

“Lawrence, it’s been a while. Although you won’t remember me will you?” The man said with a caring, genuine smile. “You never do.” He whispered under his breath, looking down at his book. 

Lawrence stood still, staring at the figure in the hallway. None of it made sense. He shook his head in confusion and began to shout again. “YOU NEED TO-“

“Lawrence, stop. You don’t have to fight at the moment. You don’t have to get anyone out. You’ve just got to listen to me.” The man said again softly. There was a sadness in his voice, a weight upon his every word.

Lawrence shook his head again, trying to clear the hallucination from his mind.

“What’s going on?! What is this?!” Lawrence exclaimed in disbelief. 

“Just a moment Lawrence.” The man opened his book, flicking through a few pages until he found the one he was looking for. He looked up at Lawrence, meeting his eyes directly.

“You’re here to make a choice. That’s what this is.” The man said firmly.

“A choice?! What do you mean?! You need to-” Lawerence started again, but again, the man gently held up his hand.

The suited man smiled his sad smile again. “It’s always the same Lawrence. I really admire your determination. Your compassion. But you don’t have to panic. You don’t have to do anything at all in fact. All you have to do is listen.”

Lawrence stood silently, as still as a statue. He could see a crack spread across the windows from the heat, but it moved a fraction of an inch every second that passed.

None of this makes sense. This isn’t happening, this isn’t real.

“I’m your scribe Lawrence. This isn’t the first time we’ve met. It won’t be the last either. I’m here to document your choices.” The man said patiently, taking his time with each word.

“Choices? What do you mean?”

“Throughout your whole life you have choices. Conscious decisions that shape your path. Your choices are what’s made you into the man you are today. All of the little choices, I don’t pay that close attention to. It’s only the decisions that change your road I document.”

The suited man pulled a cigarette from his jacket and lit it casually on the flames all around him. He placed it in between his lips and took a deep drag, exhaling the smoke with a deep sigh.

“The point is this Lawrence, whatever you choose, don’t think of it as a good or bad choice. For the most part, there is no such thing as a good or bad choice. Just… choices.”

Lawrence’s mouth opened, but words did not come out. He closed it, breathing through his nose and tried again. “This can’t be real.”

“It is.”

“Are you…are you an-”

“Angel.” They both said at the same time. The suited man chuckled softly and his eyes seemed to soften. “You always say that. Look, you don’t have to comprehend what’s going on, you’re going to forget all of this as soon as you’ve made the choice anyway.”

He took another lungful of cigarette smoke in and blew it out towards the ceiling, where it joined the smoke from the burning floorboards. “Follow me Lawrence.”

He walked off into the living room of the blazing house, and still in disbelief, Lawrence followed him. Furniture was just visible through the fire and smoke. Pictures hung half destroyed on the walls and mantlepiece. The suited man stood in the middle of the room, surrounded on all sides by walls of flames.

“In a moment Lawrence, you’re going to hear two significant noises. One is your partner, Lloyd. The other is a little girl upstairs.” Lawrence’s eye caught a mess of collapsed wood on the far side of the room, where the ceiling had caved in, eaten away by the inferno. He could just make his partner out through the chaos. 

“Lloyd!” He exclaimed, sprinting towards him.

But the closer he got, the further away Lloyd got. It was like a dream, a nightmare that he couldn’t escape. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get any closer to Lloyd. He spun around, his face hardening with confusion and anger. “Why can’t I help him!?” He shouted.

“You’re not here for that Lawrence. You’re here to make a choice.” The man said again, cocking his head downwards, unable to meet Lawrence’s gaze.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’re going to have to choose between saving Lloyd, or saving the girl.”

Lawrence stood still. 

His mouth was open, but no words escaped. 

A few moments passed.

“I know it’s a hard choice. Look, I’m going to give you a bit of something here. Whichever one you pick, they survive. And you survive.” The suited man said, pointing to his notebook.

“What?! You can’t expect me to answer that? How can I?” Lawrence said, disgust hanging onto every syllable he spoke.

“I’m sorry Lawrence. Truly I am. At least you’re able to forget these meetings we have.”

He stood for a few more moments in contemplation, holding his head in between his hands. After what seemed like an eternity, he curled his hands into fists and faced the suited man again.

“I won’t. I won’t choose.” He said defiantly.

The suited man looked at him as a parent might look at an upset child. Full of understanding, patience and care, as if he’d heard Lawerence say the exact same things before.

“That’s not how it works, you have to choose. We will stay here until you do.”

Lawrence scoffed. He started pacing around the room. After a few minutes, he spoke again.

“How old is the girl?”

“She’s six Lawrence.”

“Goddamnnit…” Lawrence cursed to himself. 

Lawrence paced around the room again.

“Is this a test?! Some kind of cruel game?!” He shouted.

“No, there is no test or game. No good or bad. Just a choice.” 

A few more minutes past. Then he finally approached the suited man. A single tear ran down his face, sparkling with the light from the fires.

“Why are you doing this? Is this a punishment?” Lawrence said, his voice cracking.

“No, no, no. Nothing of the sort. This is just the way things are.” The suited man replied.

“Oh god…” Lawrence said through gritted teeth.

The suited man nodded. “I know. I know.” He finished his cigarette with a final exhale of smoke. “What’s your choice Lawrence?”

Lawrence turned his head, unable to face him.

“The girl. The goddamn girl.”