I awoke with a start. Awoken by a noise - I didn't know what, but it had been there- had come from downstairs.
But then that's stupid isn't it? I was getting myself flustered for no reason, just because Mum was out, and there was a power cut earlier. Anyway, I still had Katrin to look after me, didn't I. Thank goodness she's got a new room now, if we were still sharing she'd be teasing me – you know; she'd say “You hear that Sal, downstairs, a ghost, maybe or a vampire!” And I'd believe her – silly superstitious me. My mind went haywire the day Dad left.
I glanced at my clock – 11:59 – one minute till witching hour. There I go again! Gullible as ever! I was at the verge of turning over and going back to sleep , when I heard it. This time I couldn't be mistaken. It had definitely come from below me - Katrin's room, clear as day. A thump – no more, no less.
I froze. For a minute, at least, I was unable to breathe. Each second passed like an hour, and between each tick of my bedside clock, it felt like eternity. When at last I found myself again, I was still unable to move – unlike the thoughts that raced through my head; What was it? A monster? A ghost? A demon?
The clock kept ticking.
No matter how afraid I was, I had to go help Katrin, something could be wrong! It was decided then, I would go downstairs to help Katrin.
It was still dark in my room, the whole of my bed, though, was illuminated by the weak light of my torch – I'd left it on while I slept.
I crept out of my bedroom door, on to the landing, tiptoeing all the way. From downstairs-still no more sounds, just eerie silence. There was a light though, in the lounge. That struck me as strange, but I couldn't remember why.
I continued my journey down each single stair, making as little noise as possible. At last, I reached the bottom, and the hallway sprawled out before me. It was warm down here, warmer than upstairs, and I could have sworn the radiator was off.
Smoke.
I could smell smoke.
And the taste of it, cutting my throat like a dagger.
Then, the flames. Greedily they devoured everything.
And the smoke seeping out of the lounge - towards me.
Katrin. The single hope in my mind was Katrin.
I ran.
Her bedroom door was open. Something was very wrong.
I burst into her room. And saw her.
She lay on the floor, her right leg twisted impossibly beneath her, broken. Her hair stained crimson from the blood, was twirled around her, knotted and damp. And her face... Her face was grey, and her forehead was bleeding, blood trickled over her perfect face, as she lay there motionless.
And I screamed.
I stood, as motionless as she was, powerless.
And flames licked my heels, and soot burned in my throat. But these didn't matter.
Katrin did.
My head swam, unconsciousness beckoning me. And as strong arms cradled me, lifted me from the flames, I gave in.
My last thought then, my last need before I was taken to safety, I wished with all my heart “Don't leave Katrin, please!”.
And I blacked out.
I was in my bed at home, with sweat pouring down my forehead. I'd woken screaming, terrified by a nightmare I could barely remember. Everything that I had just experienced-it was all just a dream.
I wish.
When I awoke, I was in a hospital. Mum and Dad were sat on chairs beside me-but why was Dad there? And my saviour? He stood on the opposite side of my bed, facing away from me. Even at this angle he was beautiful. With a start, I realised that recognised him. He was Jacob, the boy Katrin had less than a month ago loved – and I thought she still did.
But I still had to ask the most important question. What about Katrin? Just as I was about to ask, the door opened, and, thank God, there stood Katrin. Her forehead was bandaged, and her leg was in plaster, but she was alive! But instead of smiling at me she turned to face Jacob. Her blue eyes blaze as she glared at him, and she simply said to him “I hate you.”
Yet he didn't do anything; he neither recoiled nor replied.
Later, I found out there was a fire and about the sound that had awoken me; apparently there had been some sort of fight between two gangs – and the losers wanted revenge. They had planned to set fire to their enemy's house, and murder him. But they got the wrong house – mine. When they broke in through the window they went into Katrin's room. Thinking she was their enemy's girlfriend, they struck her in the head. This was their mistake. They had heard me moving above them, so decided to escape, setting the house alight behind them.
Now Dad lives with us again, this time I hope it's for good. Ever since he last left, my whole world fell apart. Still, at least he and Mum still love each other.
I know what you're thinking -what about Jacob? I know he has his own story, his reason, I don't know what. But Katrin does. Maybe one day I will too.
