Ignited (Ignited Series, #1) Chapters 1-8

Chapter 1

Copyright 2013 Desni Dantone

I couldn't escape the worst night of my life.

The screams and the sound of shattering glass sent a ripple of fear coursing through my body. I felt the dizzying disorientation and the flip-flopping of my stomach as the car somersaulted end over end. I heard the merciless roar of the river and felt the bite of the cold water that spilled over me. I saw the lifeless bodies of my friends, their souls already departed behind their sightless eyes.

It was all so real, so vivid, for a dream. Then again, it wasn't so much a dream as it was a memory. The outcome never changed. He saved me.

That was the point at which I usually woke up. Not this time.

This time, I lay wet and cold on the riverbank, the deafening rush of the water behind me, the river and the car it had swallowed out of sight. My nails dug into his skin, my desperation as real now as it had been that night, as I pleaded with him to stay. His eyes were mournful as he peeled my fingers from their grip on his arm. He turned to say one last thing. What, I never knew.

The blackness engulfed me and I woke up.

The scream rose in my throat, but didn't reach my lips. I choked it back with short ragged gasps as I sat up and struggled to breathe. With one satisfying breath, the panic attack was snuffed out before it began.

My abrupt awakening had not gone unnoticed. Probably because I wasn't at home in bed, but seated in the middle of my seventh period English Literature class. The teacher stood frozen, chalk in hand, at the front of the room and twenty sets of curious eyes turned to me. It wasn't the first time I had dozed off in class, but it was the most embarrassing. Because it was me, no one laughed. They stared and waited for the meltdown they all expected.

The only sound came from the legs of my chair as it slid across the floor. I tossed my book bag over my shoulder, and hurried out the door as excited whispers erupted behind me.

The bathroom was a quick sprint away and, to my relief, empty. Frustrated by the lack of a lock on the entrance, I punched the door. More tears sprung up in my eyes, but the pain in my hand was only an excuse. The true source was a pain that wouldn't fade anytime soon. I splashed cold water on my face, washing away the tears, but the ache in my chest remained. Blotting my cheeks with a paper towel, I frowned at the stranger staring at me in the mirror.

Weeks of restless sleep have given her the appearance of two black eyes. Red rimmed the amber in the middle, making them appear drab and weak. Her skin was pale and puffy. Even the tiny freckles that speckled her nose looked washed out. As if all of that weren't bad enough, it looked as if someone had acted out their psychopathic tendencies on her face with a serrated knife, leaving her forever marred by a red puckered line angled across her forehead.

In reality, it hadn't been a knife, but shattered glass, and it hadn't been a psychopath, but a speeding Cavalier and a patch of black ice on a bridge. It was the reminder of the night I would carry with me forever. I hated it, so I avoided it.

I checked the time on my cell. Only a few minutes left before the bell, and then one more class to go. Physics. Normally, I looked forward to the challenge. Not today.

It was the first week back from winter break, and almost four weeks since the accident that had claimed two of my friends. It had been a rough week. I was tired and emotional. Really, I just wanted to go home.

When the bell sounded, I retreated to the last stall to ride out the three minute break. I didn't want to see anyone. They all looked at me the same, like I was some freak because I had survived what I shouldn't have. Some said it was luck. Some called it a miracle.