Playing With Fire (Terry Silver)

Chapter One

Amara couldn't stand hospitals. Something about the smell of the chemicals. Something about the atmosphere. Yet, she seemed to find herself spending a lot of time in them. Amara sat, in her mothers hospital room. The constant beeping of all of the machines buzzed through her head, constantly making her ears ring.

     She thinks back to just a short time earlier today when she sat in the back row of her history class. It felt like a lifetime ago now. Amara had just finished listening to her history teacher ramble on about how none of the students in the class were doing the loads of homework that he kept assigning.

'Did he not realize, some of us have lives and jobs outside of school? Not all of us have the luxury to go straight home to their beautiful house and spend hours of their time doing homework.'

Amara's thoughts were interrupted by the principal entering the classroom, followed by the schools designated police officer or as they like to call them, peace officers, mostly to make them seem less intimidating to the teenagers in the school.

"Mmhm. Sorry to interrupt."

The principal apologized in a scruffy voice, clearing his throat obnoxiously loud.

"It's okay. What can I do for you Mr.Giovanni?"

Amara's history teacher asked. The principal cleared his throat once again

"Id like to speak with Amara Johnson."

The sound of her name perked Amara's attention, she raised her head from her desk. Her breathing hitched. Suddenly, every single person in the class turned to stare at her. This made Amara feel a bit self-conscious anxious.

'What the hell does he want with me?'
'Why are the police here?'

She pondered. Amara quickly collected her things and messily, threw them into her black book bag. Amara stood up and walked to the doorway of the classroom. She could feel every single pair of eyes on her as she exited the classroom into the hallway. Once the three were out of earshot of the classroom the police officer turned to look at the girl, a look in his eyes that she's seen before, the same one the doctor gave her when her mom got sick, sympathy,

"Amara, I unfortunately have some very bad news.."

Now, Amara is sitting in her mother's hospital room with her cold lifeless body. The doctors only gave her one hour to say her goodbyes. One small hour, the last hour she'd ever get to spend with the woman who gave her life, and had raised her into the young woman she's grown to become. Tears stained Amara's face. Snot was on her  sleeve from wiping her nose while crying. The doctor recommended that Amara stays the night at the hospital in fear that she may harm herself.

One Week Later

Amara waited in the black faux leather seats of her lawyers office. The room was so quiet. Dead silent in fact. Even the receptionists were barley making any noise while typing away on their computers. The room was cold and pretty empty besides a couple of old magazines that were lying around. Amara was trying not to breath too loud, so as to not disturb anyone. It was that quiet in this waiting room. Amara was here because her mother worked for a union and left behind a small estate. Amara's thoughts were interrupted when one of the receptionists said in a monotone voice,

"Amara Johnson, Mr.Ross will see you now."

Amara stood up, the legs of the chair slightly screeched on the linoleum floors. It made her cringe a little hearing such a loud sound in such a silent room.

"Thank you."

Amara muttered quietly, but it sounded so loud in this quiet office. She walked down the small hallway to the brown doors of her lawyers office. She opened the doors and was greeted by her lawyer. He was a pretty attractive man. Although Amara was a little bias as she's always had a thing for older guys. He sat in a leather chair behind a large oak wood desk.