3 A Time of Light

"What do you mean, we're moving again? We just got here! I just made some friends!"

"I know, I'm sorry sweetie, but your dad and I got a new job. It's really important so we have to go."

"Can't I stay here? I'm almost eighteen anyway. Please, mom!"

"You have to come. We found you a good school. You can always make new friends-"

"It's not the same! I hate it that we have to move all the time! It's not fair! I can't even have a year like a normal high schooler!"

"Sweetie-" she began but was cut off by the banging of a door as dad returned home.

I could feel the floor vibrate as he stomped in. His huge form filled the doorway, cutting off all conversation with the look he gave me.

"This is not up for discussion," his voice rumbled through the room, rattling my bones.

I could feel my face pale and my hands begin to shake. Eyes wide, I nod and mutter "yessir" before slipping out the side door. The crisp autumn air hits me, dead on. The wide ruffling the trees and blowing my hair around me face. But that doesn't stop me. I start running.

The concrete is cold and rough under my bare feet and my skin freezes as I pound down the hill.

In. Out. In. Out. I breathe, keeping pace with my footsteps. I don't know where I'm going, but I know I have to get far away from that house. Every time he looks at me like that, something bad happens. We had to move last time because of it. I don't know what would've happened this time.

Despite the breathing and the fresh air in my face, I can feel the anger bubbling in the pot of my stomach. My fingertips heat and turn red. Not the kind of red that your nose and ears get from being out in the cold for too long, but the kind of red that coals get right at the peak of their heat.

In. Out. In. Out.

I have to calm down. Breathe. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I tell myself. Calm down.

Hot tears fall down my face, leaving streaks of cold in their wake.

The houses around me begin to blur and fade together. Oh no. The rushing wind goes silent. Oh God. Everything is muffled. I can no longer feel the pain of the sidewalk. The anger rises, my face heats up and my eyes burn. My arms go red and white and black.

I don't stop running, but I'm no longer focused on getting away from him, but in getting away from me.

Grass tickles my legs as I sprint I to a field. The long grass whispering in the breeze. And then-- I explode.

I don't stop running, but I can feel the flames lick up my arms and legs, burning away the feeble cloth clinging to my body. The anger turns into something indescribable and hot. So hot, it hurts as it rushes down and out.

An Earth shattering scream rips through me as the fire flys to the ground.

I stop running, I can't make my legs move. My knees begin to quack and I fall to the ground, the coolness if the dirt seeping into my skin. The sweet relief of the cold is quickly swept away by the fire raging inside me.

The grass whips around me as the firestorm fills the sky, blocking out the blue and white and replacing it with angry red and roaring orange. The flame tears at my skin, breaking it open at the seams.

Another scream erupts from me as searing hot flashes of pain laced with heat shoot out from my core and through my body. A pressure begins to build in my chest and just when it become too much, its as if my body can't hold it and explodes.

Lightning reaches its spidery fingers out and towards the raging fire. Blue light mixes with the red. The heat in the air seems to dry up the morning dew and the grass falls, limp, to the ground.

Everything is hot. Everything hurts. There's nothing but the pain as I fall to the ground, bleeding and hurt. The storms vanishes as soon as my face hits the ground and my world goes black.

***

Distant memories of fire and pain. The crack of the lightning as it strikes everything but me, filling the world with flashes of purple. The wail of sirens. The shouts of frightened adults. Ambulances. Rough, cool hands lifting me. Slamming doors. Questions floating through the air, unheard. Blackness. Not quite sleep but an in-between space that does nothing to dampen what I'm feeling. And through it all. Pain. So much pain.

***

I can hear faint shouting coming from the kitchen. Dad's home. There's always shouting when he's home. I squinting around me. Shadows stretch across the floor of my room. The light of the moon filters in through the warped glass of my windows. The familiar comfort of my bed wrapping around me. The warmth of the blankets lulling me back to sleep.

***

Screams of pain and terror fill the air. Fire is everywhere. On everything. Bodies swim into view through the smoky haze. What happened? A voice pierces my confusion. Urgent shouting. They're saying the same word over and over again. The voice gets closer and fades away.

I look around again. The ceiling is in pieces. Rafters stick through the gaping holes, dripping fire and debris.  The walls are scotched, the flower wallpapers curling at the edges from the heat. Fire covers the floor consuming the fallen wood and foam.

Where am I? The shouting returns, closer, more urgent this time. The same word as before. SAM! SAM! Where are you? Sam! I whip my head around. My mother continues shouting, and I sit there stunned for a moment.

"Mom?"

"Sam! Is that you?"

"Mom! I'm over here! Mom!"

"I'm coming sweetie! Stay right there!"

The crackling if the fire intensifies and j hear the crack of a wooden beam above me. Slowly looking up, I see a crack splintering through the wood dangling through the hole in the roof. Another crack sounds. My eyes widen, but I can't move. The cracking gets louder. Tears fill my eyes. I don't want to die-

A SNAP! sounds and the beam falls--

***

My eyes snap open and I find myself staring at a sky filled with stars. Cold sweat runs down my arms and legs and back. My hands tremble and I feel around me, sighing when my fingers find the cool metal of the lamp on the table beside me. Fiddling with it, I finally find the switch. Light blooms from the flower patterned shade, sending pink and purple and blue light shooting across the table and floor.

Warily smiling, I close my eyes and lay back down, but the scenes from the nightmare play behind my eyes and through my mind. I open my eyes, deciding not to sleep.

I watch the light on the ceiling for awhile, trying to calm down. Listening for any sounds in the rest of the house, I ease out of the bed and lightly walk to the door. Turning the handle, my breath halts as I peek through the crack and into the hallway. I can see the carpeted stairs and the smooth floors. No ones in the hall and no light shines from the kitchen, so I slowly open the door just enough for me to slip through.

The middle of the hall creaks so I slip around the edges and down the stairs without a sound. The wood is cool under my bare feet. Cool and real.

As I pad through the dining room, my fingers brush over the top of the wood chairs at the table. Old memories. Good memories are engraved in these chairs. Times when we were a family and my brother wasn't gone. We never did find out what happened to him. He had left the house that night, and just never returned. It was the night in my dream, the one when everything good disappeared.

The cold linoleum floor of the kitchen jerks me from the death. I put my hand on the concrete counter and closed my eyes.

Images of a happy family, a smiling mother, a laughing brother, a supportive father fill my mind. Images of the perfect family, of nothing bad or evil. Images of what's never coming back. Because of me.

A faint thud makes my eyes fly open. I turn and pear into the dining room. Nothing.

It was probably nothing.

Another thud, a curse accompanying it this time. My eyes widen and my heart speeds up.

What do I do? I think but than remember that there's nothing of value in this house, nothing but pain and heartbreak. Why would someone break in? What do they want? I thought everyone avoided us. I cock my head to the side, staring into the dark, listening. Waiting. They must be new to town. No one else would come here. Not even the mayor dared venture too close to our house. Most were afraid of the terrors that lurked in the shadows. Others were afraid of never coming out. And the few who knew us. Knew what I could do, were afraid of me.

I poke my head through the doorway and look around. Nothing. I listen, looking toward the door on the right. Nothing. Just more darkness, more shadows.

Then I hear it. The faint breathing...

Words: 1655

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