Psychosis.

Phychosis.

"Avalon! Grab your sister and run!" My father's pleading voice is enough to send chills down my spine as I run to get the crying baby girl from her crib.

I suddenly feel small as I look towards my father. He roughly tries to stop the flames from taking over his paperwork. He grabs the crumpling, burning paper and attempts to stuff it into the old, leather tote bag he usues for his work. My father's love for his job as a writer is seemingly taking away his common sense, which is why he has asked me to save my younger sister from these harsh flames instead of doing it himself. I grab the baby girl and hold her close to me in my fragile arms.

What will happen to my father?

I attemped to leave Caravelle's small room, but wound up falling over a stuffed bear in my path, allowing my sister to erupt into intese tears and screaming. I apologise to her and try to calm the yelling child, but to no avail. I stand up again, hushing my sister as i look back and forth.

The heat is immense, taking over the entire square foot of the building floor and it's surroundings. A strong smell of smoke is burning my nostrils and the stinging goes down to my lungs. I know to hold Caravelle, my sister, low so the smoke won't bother her small, precious organs.

I run back into my fathers office, to a horrific sight. The ceiling is caving, leaving my father trapped, but I am unable to help him. The feeling of not being able to help my frantic father is an undescribable feeling that burns my heart. My breathing increases and so does Caravelle's screams.

"Daddy!" I yell, as he calls out my name. My flesh is burning as small peices of the ceiling hit my adolesent skin. The deep blue color of the walls seem to be no longer be existant as the red flames burn and manage to change the once bright walls to a horrid black. I cry more as the memory of my deceased mother and I painting this room roams into my brain.

"Ava, sweetheart, go downstairs and leave the building with Caravelle. I'll get to you two, promise." He smiles, but I scream again. There's no point in leaving him. Without my father, Caravelle and I have nothing, nothing whatsoever.

"Daddy! Please!" I cry, and Caravelle doesn't stop at doing the same.

"Ava!"

"Someone please! Please help him!" I scream. Being sure to attempt the action of trying to catch anyone's attention.

"Ava." His voice isn't as scared as before.

It's calm.

"Daddy! I'm sorry!" I scream again, as the fire finds it's way to burn my flesh.

"Ava! Wake up! It's alright!" I snap up and let a deep breath take over my system.

Of coarse, another nightmare.

It wasn't as much as a nightmare as it was merely a memory. A part of the past come to haunt me.

I find it hard to breath and quickly turn to the small side table beside our bed.

I grab my inhaler and squeeze the top as I take a deep breath in.

"Ava? Are you okay?" Caravelle asks me, as she moves the hair from my face. Her soft, calming gesture seems to do its work on my emotions, allowing me to take in my surrounding and let out a smooth breath.

How could I have ended up like this? A mentally instable teenager who can't even get a good nights sleep instead of dreaming of the horrible past.

"Erm, yeah. I'm okay. Thanks Cara." I smile, and she furrows her eye brows.