Don't Play With Fire

Chapter One

It was obvious.

Oh, Lia, what was obvious?

Well, two things were obvious.

One: My room was one fire.

Two: I was going to need help if I was going to get out of here.

I paced around my room frantically, smoke filling my lungs, making me dizzy. It took all of my strength to keep my vision from fading, and my knees from buckling. I was twelve- and I was not dying like this. I rushed to my door and banged on it, screaming for my sister.

"REYNA!" I cried, "REYNA! PLEASE!" No luck. I let my knees give in, and as I kneeled down in front of my blocked door I cried. No one was coming. I wasn't getting out.

I'm not even sure how the fire started- because it definitely started in my room. I didn't have any matches, lighters- anything. The corner of my bed just caught on fire.

I didn't know if it was a good thing to do this, but I opened my window. Maybe if someone saw smoke pouring out, they would call the cops. I opened it, and almost instantly smoke started spiraling out of my window. I ducked and covered my mouth. My eyes stung, and my face was stinging with the heat. I stumbled over to my mirror, and I looked fine. I just felt like a corpse.

I heard a loud "THUMP '' coming from my door, and tried to walk over to it, but the fire grew larger and my whole bed emerged into the flames. My sister came into my room with my older brother Evan beside her. Evan had black hair that covered his eyes, he was 6'1 and 19 years old. His face was etched with shock as my sister lunged through the fire to retrieve me. Her brown wavy hair sparked, but she showed no acknowledgement. She picked me up and cradled me like I was a child, and carried me to the front door, with Evan trailing behind us. As soon as we were a safe distance from the house, my sister set me down on the cool grass. We saw fire and smoke from more windows.

"Mom and Dad are in there!" Yelled Evan frantically, who was about five feet away from us.

"Evan," cried Reyna, "you can't get them! It's too-" Evan started running for the house, but a giant explosion stopped him. He got blasted backwards, hitting the tree behind us. My face seared with pain, but it couldn't be as bad as Evan's- he was covered with dust, dirt, ashes and blood. He was out cold by the time he slumped down beside me.

Sirens.

The awful wailing noise grew louder and louder, as news cars, police cars, firetrucks and ambulances rushed to the scene. My sister picked up Evan (her years of powerlifting have FINALLY paid off) and ran towards the woods. I hesitated as my sister stood at the edge of the trees, her frantic eyes telling me to follow her. I looked back and saw the headlights on the road. I bolted for my sister. We ran through the woods, no apparent destination. No meaning. No physical reason. Emotions can do crazy things to people. But I think Reyna and I shared the same thought as we rushed away from the terrible scene: I'm never coming back.

And just like that, my life would never be the same.