Briar Preparatory Academy

Burning

Rory POV

I watch as Celeste walks out of the library, leaving me to do my homework in peace. I read in my textbook for a few minutes, but find myself unable to focus. I reach down to my backpack and put my textbook away. I grab my small spiral bound notebook, and start writing about my day. I'm the kind of person who likes to keep a journal... I know that's bad protocol is a spy, after all, the life of a spy is supposed to hold no record. I can't help it though. Old habits die hard.

I started writing in a journal when I was about 9; that's when my mom died. I lived with my dad for the next few years before he sent me away to Briar Prep. I write stories about fictional characters. I'm writing one right now about this boy who goes through his life realizing that he is living in peoples' dreams. He jumps from dream to dream while they sleep. And sometimes, when the person whose dream they are in dies or has an important event in their life, Jake, the main character, is forced to watch. But Jake is stuck in people's dreams, knowing the struggles they go through and trying to help them though their dreams. I created an entire world of dreams. There are different layers, which one you go to depends on how deep you are sleeping, and how realistic your dreams are. In this world, all the dreams interact, so if you meet a character in your dream named Sue, then somewhere in the world, a girl named Sue is sleeping and you are a part of her dream also. But that's just an overview.

I like writing about other worlds, it takes me out of this one. I begin writing about today, my classes, and about my mentor meeting with Celeste. I write about our conversation, and how she doesn't know how much I look up to her. My last couple entries have included her. Since I was 9, I have written one entry every day. I start the entry in the morning and finish it at night... kind of like a before and after. I've gone through 8 journals, 7 of which are in a trunk locked under my bed in my dorm. The one I have now started mid-summer, and goes until now.

I hear a loud bang and jump in my seat. I set my journal back down in my backpack, zip it up, and walk over to the door frame to inspect the sound. For a moment, everything is silent. I furrow my eyebrows, leaning further out. The hallway outside the room is dark and quiet, the only light the lamp that stands in the corner of the hall. I step out into the hallway, my hands held out to my sides to feel the wooden walls beside me. I stop.

Something smells wrong. I inhale a deep breath through my nose... is that smoke? There is a strong sense of gas and burning wood in the air. Something isn't right. I sprint down the hallway, leaving my bag behind. I can go back for it later. I pump my arms as I sprint up the stairs, the smell of fire growing stronger...

The next floor up is on fire. Literally, the gigantic bookshelves that touch ceilings are burning, the books falling off the shelves one by one. I stop dead in my tracks, sheer terror punching me in the gut. I scream loudly, begging for help and for someone to come. I quickly start backing up, but then remember the stairwell behind me. I am trapped between an underground room and the rest of the library, which is falling apart in front my eyes. I look around for other signs of life, but I see nothing. I am completely alone.

A crackling noise above me makes me jump back as a falling beam three times my size lands right where I was standing seconds before. It immediately catches on fire, and I am forced to jump over it. I begin to sprint through the halls, my heart beating a million miles a second. My throat starts to clog with smoke and I cough. I pull my shirt up over my nose and continue to run, my eyes squinted. I can barely see through the red hot flames and black smoke. Suddenly, one of the giant bookshelves topples over, the books stored inside it flying out like small balls of fire. I stop dead in my tracks. I can't jump over this, and it's blocking my way out. I look forward over the flames, and I can see the stairwell that leads up to the first floor. I know that is the way I must go, my only path to freedom. I look to my left, but there is a burst of flames, blocking any chance of escaping. I whip my head to the right, but the same thing stands in my way. I am trapped.

As I stop to review my options, every lesson I've ever learned in my classes start to come back to me in the span of a few seconds. I take a shaky breath in. I hear my name being called in the back of my head, I ignore it. I let out a sigh of frustration as I walk closer to the burning shelf. I hear my name again, and just as I am about to yell back that I'm here, something crashes down and lands on my shoulder. I scream out with pain. I crumple to the ground. A falling piece of the ceiling had caught fire and fallen down. The flaming piece hit me square in the shoulder, burning the skin raw, leaving only raw muscle and bone. I grab my arm and pull it closer to me. The pain is like nothing I've ever experienced before. Tears start to pour down my face, I've given up. I hear the voice again.

"RORY!"

My vision begins to blur as I try to process the voice. It sounds all too familiar, like the sound of rushing water or the pencil writing on paper. I remember the kindness of the voice; the humor and the overall affection that made me feel comfortable. It was Celeste.

Celeste has come into this burning building to find me, and we are both going to die. This library used to be an amazing room containing a wealth of knowledge, but now it's become our fiery coffin. I choke on a sob, not even caring. I want to tell Celeste to run, run far away from here where she can be safe. If she gets hurt in here it will be my fault. She came in here to search for me. I open my mouth to yell to her, to tell her to save herself, but the only noise escapes is one of pain and desperation. I am going to die. My father will be heartbroken when he finds out. With my absence, he will have no one left. My mother is gone, and now me. I silently tell him that I love him, though I know that he cannot hear me. I tell him I am sorry, that I never intended for anything like this to happen. I close my eyes, breathing shallowly, as I feel myself fade in and out of consciousness--

"Rory!" I hear Celeste's voice again. My eyes fly open. Why is she still in here?

"Run," I say, "please run. Please." The words come out quiet, just barely a whisper. I close my eyes for the last time. Oddly enough, I feel a soothing sensation overwhelm me. I know that it will all be over soon. I will go where I will never be alone, where I can feel like I belong, no matter who I am. I feel something slide around me, and my eyes open. The familiar eyes and warm smile of my mother takes up my view. She is dressed in white, and she looks... happy. I glance around. The burning bookshelves and the fire are no longer surrounding me.

"Mom?" I whisper. She looks at me, her eyes adoring. She holds out her hand and says,

"Come with me."

I gladly melt into her embrace, letting her hold me. Tears of raw emotion flow down my face. Then she is gone, and the fire is back, and I am alone again. I scream as the fire crawls closer to me and my body. My breathing begins to fade away, until all I can see is complete darkness, then a blinding flash of white light, like a door opening in the middle of the night. I walk towards it, leaving everything else behind.

Slowly, I close my eyes and allow my breathing to become shallow. Despite the pain, I am calm.

I am no more.