Status: Criminally Insane

Your Fault

Hot. So, so hot.

Tortured screams fill the smoky air as the girl, her mind whirling with terror, sprints down the fire escape outside the burning building. Orange flames lick the freaking walls inside the building as she frantically scrambles toward the ground, her copper hair swishing behind her. Her heart beats in a frenzied rhythm. Words erupt in her mind, matching the pounding of her heart: your fault. Your fault. Your fault. YOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULT—

Clarissa Bryant sat up in bed, gasping and white-faced. She clutched the sweat-soaked sheets tightly in both fists. She took several deep, steadying breaths, then slid out of bed and padded into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

Get a hold of yourself, Clarissa thought, gulping her water. It was just a dream.

Even as she told herself this, Clarissa knew she was lying. In her mind's eye, she could still see that awful night in vivid detail, that night she refused to think about, that was now manifesting itself in her dreams. That night was the whole reason she moved into this new house in Fairview just last week. She couldn't bear to be in Bayford anymore, not after what she'd done. She needed a fresh start, so here she was - new town, new house, and tomorrow, new job.

Settling herself on the couch, knowing she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, Clarissa turned on the TV and tried to relax.

The next morning, Clarissa found herself in her car, staring in bafflement at a fast-food restaurant. She could have sworn this was where the office building she had gotten a job at was. Has she possibly gotten the address wrong? It was the only reasonable explanation; still, Clarissa felt uneasy as she pulled over, dug out her phone, and dialed her boss's number.

"I'm sorry. This number is no longer in use," came the robotic voice at the other end of the line.

Clarissa blinked in surprise at her phone. What was going on? Biting her lip, Clarissa drove all around town, searching in vain for the tall brick office building. Not finding it, she headed home, deciding to ask her neighbors.

Once she was back in her neighborhood, Clarissa knocked on the door of her next-door neighbor, a jovial middle-aged man named David.

"Why, hello there! Clarissa, is it? What can I do for you today?" he asked cheerily after he opened the door.

"Hello, David," Clarissa said. "Could you tell me where Fairview Offices is? I can't seem to find it."

David's brown furrowed in confusion. "Fairview Offices? There is no Fairview Offices. The nearest office building is a town over," he said.

Clarissa gaped at him. "But - that can't be! I got a job at a building called Fairview Offices just yesterday! I had an interview with a woman named Jessica Price!"

David starting to look a little nervous. "Look, Clarissa, I don't know what you're talking about. There is no Fairview Offices here, and I don't know anyone named Jessica Price. Are you sure that was what the building was called?"

Clarissa couldn't believe what he was saying, but David was looking at her like he feared for her mental health, so she decided to end the conversation quickly. "I guess I must be mistaken. Sorry for bothering you," she said, and hopped off his porch steps before he could say goodbye.

Clarissa went back into her own house and sat on the couch with her head in her hands. What in the world was going on? There was no doubt about it - the building she got a job at was most definitely called Fairview Offices, and the woman was certainly called Jessica Price, but David was saying he'd never heard of either!

Clarissa could feel a headache coming on. The entire situation was too perplexing for her. Lying down on the couch, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.