Prologue
384 Words
It's too hot.
Everything around her is too hot.
Open your eyes, Ellie!
Somebody's screaming on her right, no her left. No! It's everywhere.
I can't move. Something is weighing me down.
It's too much. Pain. I feel it all over me.
What's going on?
Stop. Please make it stop. I feel on fire.
I am on fire.
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She woke up with a start.
Goodness, it's too bright.
As she opened her eyes, she saw blue skies. Warm rays of the sun beating at her face. Waking her from her deep slumber.
What? Did my room lost the roof? And when did I start sleeping on the floor?
Getting up, dusting her jeans she looked around. This is not her room. This is one of those old classrooms she and some of her friends hide to when they skip classes!
For the nth, What's going on?
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The ringing bell.
She can't remember how many days have passed. Everyday, she wakes up on that old classroom, on the floor, wearing the same clothes.
At least I don't smell.
Classes are about to start. As students make their way hurriedly to their classrooms, a girl is seen staying behind.
Seen? Did they even glanced her way? She is now a nobody.
Once the darling of the crowd, the charismatic cheerleader, the golden boy's girl, the face of the school, she's now reduced to nothing.
Woke up in the middle of a rundown, old classroom, she made her way through the halls.
She remembered the screams.
The moans of pain.
Help please! Somebody help!
The heat is suffocating.
I can't breathe.
The flames dancing at her skin, her face.
She does not understand what's going on. She's confused. She's lost. As she made her way to her locker, she saw bouquets of red roses, her favorite flower.
Photos of her with her friends, her teachers, her boyfriend Matt, and her family.
Is it Valentine's Day?
She can't remember. Her locker is opened. Overflowing with letters different papers and colors.
What the hell? Is this a joke?
She stares at her picture, framing her once beautiful face with words written "Rest in Peace" below.
God no. Please no.
I can't be dead. I can't be.
I thought I survived the flames. The fire.
Am I dead? Why me?
- Writer
