The Alarm That Cried Fire

Later that same night…

At half past midnight there came a rapping at my door.

“Fire department.”

I sprang from the couch to investigate. As I flung open the door, there was a man donning the appropriate attire to legitimize this claim. Then there was me, in my pajamas, with stars on my pants. On sale from Victoria’s Secret, but that’s besides the point. He gave me a once over, he glanced down at me, furrowing his brows he spoke, “There’s been a report of a fire in the building, let’s go outside…”

I knew what he was thinking. He’s pissed because the fire alarm has been sounding for at least a good, I’m gonna say, eight minutes, and he thinks I’m the dumb one for hearing the alarm and ignoring the universal warning that there’s a fire.

But what he didn’t know, is that I’ve lived in this building for seven years, on this floor. What he didn’t know, is the first time the fire alarm sounded in the first year I lived here, I left the building, into the cold night air, waited as the firemen traipsed upstairs under the weight of their gear, only to discover that there was no fire. What he didn’t know, and I did, is that this has happened a handful of times, and always in the middle of the night.

What he also didn’t know, is that I was awake writing about the bum who had woken me up screaming bloody murder, and because of this, I heard the person stumble down the stairs, pull the fire alarm, on my floor, and continue to stumble down the other flight of stairs, into the night, to leave the rest of us behind to be judged for our pj choices, and for not leaving the building.

As I told the fireman, “okay," I closed the door and locked the deadbolt. Instead of leaving the building, I went back to the couch, peeked out the window to see a crowd of firemen huddled together outside. I decided, there would be no restful sleep for me tonight, so I closed the laptop, and climbed into bed anyway. Laying there, under the covers, in my bed in the closet, next to the hall, I started to drift off to the beat of firemen descending the stairs, dreamily I thought…NO, fire alarm, I will not be leaving the building tonight, because you’ve cried fire one too many times.

The next day this was posted outside my building…


However, if I do happen to die in my sleep, because of smoke inhalation, or because I’ve been burned to a crisp, you’ll all know why.