There's a Rebel in My Bed! [✓]

19. Let The Boy Go

                                                     There’s A Rebel In My Bed!

                                                     Chapter 19 – Let The Boy Go

                                 Song of the Chapter: Disappear by Beyoncé (2008)

 

I switched Chapter 20 for chapter 19. I thought that ch. 20 would be a better prelude to the hysteria that fills that ch. 19. Basically, this chapter would’ve been ch. 20 instead of ch. 19, but modified to fit the timeline. Don’t forget to VOTE (90) and COMMENT (35)

 

The building was blazing.

Balls of fire shot from the roof, heavily accompanied by the rumbling sound of cement cracking and breaking as it slammed onto the ground, shattering into millions and millions of fragmented pieces. It would have been mesmerizing if it wasn’t so horrifying knowing what just went down.

Allen was speechless. He watched as the sky be painted with red and orange and dust as the entire eatery started to crumble, bits and bits at a time. I didn’t know how to explain to him the situation; how could I? What could I say? The entire thing felt so surreal; like a movie being played out. Except no one was there to yell cut and douse the flames; both literal and metaphorical.

“Wha…” Allen got out, but faded away beside me as the door we escaped from detached itself from the hinges and fell to the floor in a blaze of fire and scorched bolts. We both flew backwards, hitting the wall that separated this building from the other. “What just happened?”

My phone vibrated in my pocket before I had the chance to respond to him. In no time my hand had found its way to the deepest part of my jean’s pocket and fished it out; barley dropping on the count of the hastiness to answer the cellular. “Hello?!” I frantically answered, not worrying about looking at the ID.

“Evan!”

I exhaled, both relieved and disappointed. “I’m here.”

“Thank God.” Kimmy said as well, the sound of air exiting her lungs filled the receiver of the phone. “Are the others there?”

I took a very silent moment; eyeing the door for a few seconds, hoping that Chris would somehow walk out. That moment never came. “Allen is.” I responded grimly as the sound of static and fire snapping metals and wood echoed through the receiver and into my ears. “Kimmy?”

“Chris?”

“I-Idon’t know. We split up and then…boom.” I replied, my chest was aching; from smoke or heartache was up for debate. “I don’t know if he got out or not. Where’s Bobby?”

“He-he heard noises and went to check it out.” She answered, tone uncharacteristically soft, “That was before the explosion.” She breathed. “I can hear police sirens.”

“Sirens?” I mumbled, what kind of mess did we just create?  “God, what do we do?” I said, grabbing Allen by the hand and starting to jog around the side of the building, down a darkened alleyway that should lead to the main road. He was so out of it, it didn’t seem as if he noticed that his feet were even moving; his eyes were painted red by the flames.

“I have no idea.” She answered as I came into sight from the side of the building. The moment she saw us, she hung up the phone, eyes filling with some form of relief and jogged over. Her eyes didn’t stay on us for very long – like a moth to flame, they returned to the building in bewilderment, nervousness and an overwhelming glint of fear. “What if they’re both trapped inside.” She swallowed, “Or worse.” With that fearful assumption died the mixture of looks that sat in her pupils and something made of guilt replaced it. Her head turned to me. “I should’ve listened.”