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I woke up, my whole body drenched with sweat—Jesus Christ, I was soaked. The sheets clung to my skin, heavy and suffocating like I'd been swimming in a nightmare and couldn't surface.
My mind felt like it was wrapped in cotton, thick and disoriented, and for a few seconds, I had no idea where I was. The darkness swallowed me, pressing in from all sides. I blinked, trying to focus. Joey's bed. How the hell did I end up in Joey's bed? Panic flared briefly, a nervous flutter, but it didn't matter—none of it made sense.
I wiped my face, my hand coming away slick with sweat. "Jesus," I muttered under my breath, my voice ragged and barely audible, the sound strange in the quiet room. Slowly, I forced myself to sit up, my limbs feeling disconnected from my body. My legs wobbled as I stumbled, almost collapsing back into the bed. Something was off—way off.
The air was thick, heavy in my lungs like I couldn't quite catch a full breath. That's when I noticed it—a faint orange glow flickering under the door, dancing shadows across the floor.
What the hell?
A cold knot of fear twisted in my gut as I staggered toward the door, my pulse already racing, each heartbeat louder in my ears. My hands were shaking when I grabbed the doorknob, fumbling, pulling it open with too much force.
As soon as I stepped into the hallway, the smell hit me—sharp and acidic, burning the back of my throat. Smoke. Thick, choking smoke. My lungs seized up as I coughed, stumbling back. I didn't even need to look to know.
But then I saw them. Flames.
They danced at the bottom of the stairs, spreading up the walls like they were alive, hungry, devouring everything in their path.
I froze, staring down at the inferno, my mind completely blank for a long, awful second. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. My brain struggled to process it, but the heat—God, the heat—it was so real.
Fire. The house was on fire.
That realization punched through the fog in my brain like a lightning strike. Panic surged, white-hot and frantic, burning through every nerve in my body.
I spun on my heel, my feet moving before I even thought. I had to get everyone out. Now.
My legs carried me toward the first door in the hallway—my younger brother's room. I banged on it so hard my knuckles ached, the sound barely registering over the roaring flames. No answer. I didn't have time to think. I threw the door open.
Empty. The beds were a mess, blankets tossed aside. They wasn't there. They're out. They're safe. They had to be.
I stumbled back into the hallway, the flames creeping closer, the heat intensifying with each passing second.
I raced to the next room—Marie's room. The door was already ajar. My heart pounded in my ears as I pushed it open wider, praying, please be gone, please be gone.
The bed was empty. She's out too.
But then came the worst fear clawing its way into my chest—Shannon. Our room.
I bolted down the hall, past Joey's door, to the last room. Her room. I skidded to a stop and grabbed the handle.
It was locked.
Locked.
My heart dropped, panic flooding my veins. "Shannon!" I screamed, banging on the door so hard my hands shook. Nothing. No sound.
"Shannon!" I screamed again, voice breaking, raw with desperation. I rattled the handle, slamming my shoulder against the door.
Why was it locked? Why the hell was it locked?
I pressed my ear to the wood, straining to hear—anything. My breath was coming in short, ragged bursts now, each inhale burning from the smoke. Silence. Just awful, dead silence.
I pressed my forehead to the door, trying to steady myself. She has to be out. They all got out, didn't they?
Didn't they?
My mind screamed for me to do something, to break the door down, to keep fighting, but the heat was unbearable now. The flames were closer, licking up the walls, turning the hall into an oven. I could barely think, barely breathe.
She must be out. They're all out.
I turned, choking on my sobs as I stumbled back toward Joey's room, slamming the door shut behind me, as if that would keep the fire at bay. But I knew—deep down, I knew it was over.
The smoke seeped through the cracks, curling in like the fingers of death, thick and suffocating. The smell of burning wood was overpowering now, the crackling flames growing louder, hungrier.
My legs gave out, and I collapsed next to the bed, my knees hitting the floor with a dull thud. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the sweat, my whole body trembling uncontrollably.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my hands together, my breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps. Please, God. Please, let this be quick.
The heat was so intense I could feel my skin prickling, the edges of my vision blurring from the smoke.
"Please," I whispered again, my voice barely a breath, lost in the roar of the flames. Please let this end. Please. Let it be over.
