Bullet

Chapter 1 - The Night of Fate

The droning of the fire engines still ringing in my ears, the flames drawing ever closer burning into my vision. Over seven years passed, yet the marks left on my skin still feel like they were etched in yesterday. My name is Jorrel, and this fire changed my life forever.

Living with 'new parents' doesn't alleviate this pain. Instead, weekly counselling sessions remind me of the death of those who meant the most to me. Am I being punished? Or is this that thing they call 'fate'?

School has always been a drag, since the moment I got here it's just been years of bullying, and people poking fun at the fire. Thursday became the scheduled day for my counselling sessions. Every week I was stuck in a dark room with a tall skinny man who was about as entertaining as an un-tuned TV set. Repeating the same questions, week after week in the hope that the answer will vary. It never does though, these people who want to 'help me' just keep digging a bigger hole for me to crawl into. "So tell me," he began, "How are you feeling today?"

"Better than last week, I suppose," I replied, "I'm a lot more relaxed honestly."

"So the episode from a week ago is wiped off the slate?" He asked, scribbling in his notepad.

"I hope so," I replied.

"Oh, so... the feelings to commit suicide have left your head?" He asked, leaning forward.

"You aren't convincing me there's another way out,"

He coughed into his hand, clearing his throat, "Jorrel, we are trying to help you! There are always better options than suicide!" He exclaimed.

"You only say that because it'll reflect badly on you." I continued, "Can you end all this? No, so why don't you stop trying?"

He lifted his notepad putting it back in his satchel, "Why don't you go back to class? We'll pick up where we left off next week," he concluded.

Some shrink he is, I stood up from the chair and waltzed out the room with my head held high. School, as stated before is a drag, so I stepped out back for a quick cigarette to calm down. And with no one watching the front gate, I slipped out and began the short walk home.

No one was currently home, but no doubt the school would inform my carers of my absence. More fun to look forward to. Walking up to my room, I threw my blazer across to the right-hand side of my bed. Stopping before the mirror, I pulled the sleeve up to my shoulder, gazing upon the horrible colours that plagued my upper body, the colours varied from yellow to black, to white, showing where the flames caught me. I would have died, had my mother not shielded me. The skin had a leather-like feel to it that I hate.

I pulled my sleeve back down and opened the window, perching myself on the window ledge with my legs dangling outside. Pulling another cigarette out of my pocket, I lit it and took a few puffs. Inhale the good stuff, exhale the bad stuff. Across the street, I gazed upon a car pulling up, and through the windows, I can make out a large collection of boxes and other essentials for travel. The driver emerged, appearing to be a female around the same age as I am. She simply got out the car and rushed toward the house that had been emptied a few months ago. What is she doing around here? There's nothing of any worth in this part of the country. Should I say hello? From the window ledge? She'd think I'm crazy. But if she's moving in then it's nice to introduce myself.

I got down from the ledge and put on some clothes that make me look presentable at least. I left the comfort of my house and made my way across the street toward the house she was currently taking refuge in. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door. The door handle slowly turned downward. The door creaked open, revealing the girl I saw scrambling out of the car. I opened my mouth to speak "Hello, I'm your neighbour from across the street, my name is -"

"Jorrel I know who you are," she replied

"That's kind of funny, I don't know you," I said scratching the back of my neck.

"It's fine, no one remembers the quiet person. My name's Emilia."

"I'm sorry, I still don't remember you,"

"Never mind," she sighed. "As much as I'd love to chat I've got things to do. So yeah..." She said slamming the door.

As I lay in bed, I thought about my talk with Emilia. She acted very evasive. She did mention she was quiet, oh well. Maybe I should go back over there tomorrow after school.

I woke up early in the morning again. The same nightmare as always. I was huddled in the corner of my room, watching as the flames drew closer. My mother however always shows up to form a shield around me.

I sat there for a while, mulling over my options. Hang on, I remember something. A memory I had repressed for a long time. I was young, right after the incident had occurred. I can remember kids laughing, shouting insults at the texture that sprawled across my skin. And I remember who was at the front of it all. Emilia.

This view, I am very fond of. From the top of this construction site, I can see the entirety of the town. The surrounding area is filled with spots where new twenty story buildings will be built, and where am I now you ask? Sitting on top of one of them. I have sat in this spot so many times, so many times I've tried to escape this hellish life. Although, looking back on it, maybe I'd be best off just running away...