Quantum Entanglement ~ Tamber

Chpater 14

Fire. Before she had even opened her eyes, she could feel it whipping her flesh. It clawed at her, ripping at her muscles and tearing them away from bone. She was exhausted, but there was no sleep to be had. The flames flitted across her skin, charring her remains, only to seal her back up and start all over again. There was no release – no pity to be taken on her. Pain was her only companion – pain and flames.

Amber Freeman was in hell, where she had spent the last year being licked by flames.

Normally, when the body has had too much, it will collapse on itself. It will bring sleep or shock or some sort of protection. Her body would not offer her such mercy. She felt every bubbling blister of her skin – every crackling of her flesh becoming too unrecognizable to stay in place. It was relentless like she had been with her victims.

She thought of them often. She remembered the knife entering her victims and felt sick over it. She felt regret and remorse, but it was too late to make amends. She was dead, far away from those she hurt. She could never make it better.

She thought of Tara the most. She would rather the fire burn her alive for all eternity than be forced to relive the night she attacked her repeatedly. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Tara's. She saw the look of terror in them as she drove the knife into her body – saw the twisted plea to stop. And yet she continued.

"Please stop."

There was no escaping from the girl's eyes. Tara had trusted her. They spent their lives together, growing into their eventualities. She was the slaughter; Tara was the lamb. And for what? She couldn't even remember, not while those eyes stared into her soul – or lack thereof.

Maybe at one point she felt like she could have her, but it died away. She was fine being her friend. She was hopelessly fucking in love with the girl, but she could push that down and just be friends. She could. She had to.

But then things got messed up. Richie got in her head and convinced her that Tara hated her and was going to fuck around with Wes. Why did she believe that? Why was it so easy for her to believe the worst of the girl she had been in fucking love with since they were kids? What did he do to her to make her feel so angry all the time?

Life before Richie had been perfect. Now that she was nothing but flames and embers, she could reflect on that achingly. She wished so badly she could go back to the days she and Tara would sing in her room at the top of their lungs, jumping around like they were on a concern stage. She'd give anything to see the girl smile again, but what exactly did she have to give? She had nothing but memories to distract her from the pain, and even her body was no longer her own. She had nothing.

When things got particularly grueling, she would think of nights spent running her fingertips up the smaller girl's spine, and the way the simple motion would make her shift closer to her. She remembered her freckles and would try to count each one by memory, or she'd think of those adorable dimples and the way her smile looked. They got her through – cooled the flames for just a moment.

Even then, Tara was still saving her life.

She had no right to wish she was with her at that very moment. She had fucked up. She hurt her when all she ever wanted was the protect her. How had her thinking gotten so messed up? How had she been so poisoned against the one fucking thing in her life that brought her any joy?

It was just another day of pure agony when something shifted. The change was small at first. It felt like a soft mist hitting her skin, making its way just past the fire. She could barely register it was there; it might have gone completely unnoticed had it not gotten stronger. Eventually, it turned into the torrential downpour, extinguishing the flames that bound her in place. For the first time since she'd been sent there, she could breathe. She could move and look around and think.