Prologue
A shake of my head pushes out the heavy sigh I was trying to hold in. I fling my head back onto my pillow.
I hate homework.
I don’t understand the reason for it at all. Why can’t we do in-class assignments and be done with it? The extra work we have to do at home is overkill, honestly.
My mom and dad are out on a once-every-two-weeks date, which they’ve been doing to “keep the romance alive” or something like that. So I’m left fulfilling my big-sister duties by babysitting my little sister, Sidney. I push my earbuds in and turn my music up enough that it’s the only sound I can hear.
How I’m already behind on my schoolwork when the semester just started, I have no idea. I slide to the floor and prop my elbow on my knee, then rest my chin on my fist. I let out another sigh of frustration and shake my head, unsure if I’ll ever see the solution. That’s when I smell it . . .
It’s the smell that comes with someone grilling but stronger. As I sit up, my brows pinch together.
Where is it coming from?
I turn my head to the door. It’s right there, coming from under the door. Eyes wide, I throw my headphones to the side and sprint for the knob.
Smoke.
“Sidney!” I yell, running down the hall to her room. “Sidney, can you hear me?” But I can’t hear anything.
I slam my body into her bedroom door, bursting through, seeing it. Flames are overtaking half the room, along the once-pink drapes and across the bed, and on the other side, I see the tent—the tent that’s base when we play tag, the tent that’s a castle when we’re royalty, the tent that’s safe when nowhere else is, fully intact but only moments from being engulfed like everything else.
“Sidney! I’m coming! Hold on!” Running across the room, I peer into the tent to see a frightened little girl in the fetal position, crying. “Sidney . . .” She looks up at me and jumps into my arms. “It’s time to go—now!”
I pull her off the ground and push her toward the door. I stop her right as we reach the hall and grab her arm. “Go out the front door and across the street to the neighbors’ house. Tell them to call 911 because there’s a fire and stay there until I come to get you, okay?”
The only response I get is her stricken face staring at me like I’m crazy.
“Okay?”
She jumps with wide eyes at my tone before nodding her head and mumbling, “Okay,” then runs down the hall.
Okay, what the hell am I supposed to do now?
Turning on my heels, I head to the living room and straight for the receiver just in case, in her state of shock, Sidney forgets about calling for help, but the phone isn’t there. It’s missing. I push the call button and listen for the ring that will lead me to the house phone. I run back down the hall, following the faint sound, and find myself in front of the door at the end of the hall with flames on the other side threatening to destroy my home.
I can hear the faint beeping, but I can’t see it. Curses fall out of my lips at my parents for not buying me a cell phone. I step into the room, trying to follow the sound, and then I see the phone on the floor on the far side under the bed. I get down on my hands and knees and crawl as fast I can, and as I reach it, a loud crack sounds above me.
I gasp for what little air the flames haven’t taken away. The flames have eaten away at the bed frame, and it collapses on top of me. I try to scream in pain, but nothing comes out. Overwhelmed by the pain, the flames, and lack of air, I have trouble concentrating as black spots dot my vision.
I remember the phone in my hand and dial 911. As I hit the call button, everything around me becomes unclear and blurry. The entire room sways.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” I barely hear the woman’s voice. I’m drifting into unconsciousness too quickly to keep up.
“Fire . . . at my house . . .” I struggle to take a breath to continue. “I’m trapped in the back room.” My vision starts to go in and out, and I know I’m running out of time. “Nine ninety-three Elk Street . . .”
I hear a woman’s voice on the other end of the phone, but it slips from my fingers, and the entire room goes black—but not before I see someone’s dark eyes looming over me, looking down at me, saying something, but I can’t hear anymore.
