All of the Lights

Chapter Twenty-Four

Previously...

"So, what's a good hurt?" I turned my head, smiling at him.

"Something that's worth the pain." He shrugged, acting like he hasn't just said some pretty strong words. I raised my eyebrows and stared at him.

This boy was a lot smarter than I thought.

"Yeah?" I breathed out.

"Yeah." He agreed.

We both were silent for a moment. I stared at the ceiling.

"Loving you is a good hurt." Sam finally whispered. And after that he slowly began to drift off to sleep.

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Chapter Twenty-Four

The house was on fire, my room in particular was burning in flames. Jake stood by me and held me directly in front of the door, making me watch everything turn to ashes.

"You killed him, Riley! This is your fault!" Jake yelled at me. I fell to my knees, feeling pain everywhere.

"I didn't do it!" I cried. "Sam had a match! It fell! It wasn't me!"

"Why did he have matches?" Jake's voice was so loud. It made my ears ring in pain.

"Because he was smoking!" I was practically throwing up on the floor, the pain kept increasing.

"And why was he smoking, Riley?"

"Because... Because..." I couldn't bring myself to say it.

"Because why?" Jake screamed.

"Because of me. I killed him. It was me!" I cried in pain.

I killed him.

"You're the one who wanted to die! Not my best friend!" Jake's head was turning red with anger.

"But, I... I..." I tried to force out a sentence.

"I hope you rot in hell." Jake grabbed the door handle, taking a step closer.

"Jake! Stop!" I was screaming. I tried to grab his arm, but couldn't get a grip on it. He gave me one last disgusted look and walked into the flaming room. His body immediately turned to ash.

I looked around helplessly. There was no one. I was alone. I just killed everyone. Everyone died because of me.

..

"Babe? Wake up." Sam groaned. My eyes shot open. The room was pitch black.

Silence was everywhere. The only noise was my deep, frantic breathing.

"Sam?" My voice cracked.

Thank God he's alive. It was just a dream.

"I'm right here." He stated.

More deep breaths. I wiped away a few tears that were trailing down my cheek.

"Why do you smoke?" I couldn't keep it in. I had to ask him. I had to get him to stop.

"What?" He was taken aback by my question.

"Why do you smoke? What does it do?"

"I... Uh... What?" He rubbed his eyes.

"I need help." I blurted out.

Sam pulled himself up and flicked on a lamp. He leaned over to me, his eyes blood shot.

"What?" He asked again. He was clearly confused.

"I don't feel happy... I feel like my insides are rotting."