Laughing Myself To Death

I rushed down the hall, smoke in my eyes. Sweat dripped down my body as I ran trying to get to the nearest exit. I pushed and shoved men and women, trying desperately to save myself. Usually I would have let them pass, however I knew that if I didn’t force my way through I would die. At this moment, I was the most important person alive. I needed to save myself. I mean, who else would? I was alone as far as I could tell. These people were less than myself. Why shouldn’t I have shoved them away? This building I was trapped in was burning. Burning around me and all I could do was try hopelessly to escape. I looked at the tiny glass window on the door before me. I saw my own reflection in the fire behind the door. I smiled. I, the only one who mattered was dying. I laughed at my own primal instincts of survival. I stood there, transfixed on my reflection, burning in that room. My one chance of survival had burned away with that room being on fire, so why shouldn’t I burn with it. So I did. I stood there and watched myself burn to death. The flames quickly spread from the room before me to the room around me. I watched as the beauty and danger coincided and melded together around me. I just watched. I felt compelled to laugh at how foolish I was for running, shoving those people and for thinking I had any chance of escape. I laughed myself to death.