Windows

Freedom

It takes a moment for the students to digest the situation. Then everybody jumps into action.

The girl in the teal gown immediately latches on to the boy next to her and begins dramatically crying and screaming. I can see the boy is wincing and trying to shrug her off, to no avail. Yelling and spontanteous last declarations of love are erupting around the streamer-ridden room. People are pulling their shirts over the faces to combat the toxins in the smoke, others are kneeling on the ground praying to Jesus and Allah and whoever else they hope is listening. I'm aware that the vice principal, a short, geeky looking man with a sad haircut and glasses is wielding a fire extinguisher as he repeatedly bashes the door with it. It is the only exit.

Because the fire was lit from outside, it hasn't reached us yet but is bound to soon. And we'll be burnt to a crisp if that stupid vice principal keeps denting the fire extinguisher. It's getting really hot, too hot, like we're in an oven. Cooked alive.

I see Allison - the slender redheaded cheerleader I exchanged secrets with in the school bathrooms - in a long flowing red dress, looking like a real-life Jessica Rabbit. She doesn't seem to be fazed by the chaos around her. She's skulling the punch like it's her last, which it may well be. 

I can't hear what Tyler is saying to me over the screaming. I'm trying to lip read as I've decided my ears are no good to me anymore when I realise he wants me to hold his hand.

As if! I'm going to die with dignity, I tell myself. But his hot hand is grasping on to my sweating fingers and suddenly I don't feel the fire. I feel a need to survive. I feel my father's voice - I don't hear it. I feel it. It's warm and low and it's telling me to hold on. And I do. I'm digging my nails into poor Tyler's flesh and I'm wishing real hard for this to end. My thoughts come in one big long flow. 

it's my last night and he didn't even ask me out what if he likes her and not me where is my mother i'm scared i shouldn't have come my dress was ugly anyway ugh what is that girl wearing i mean hot pink was so 2007 but who cares the building is on fire i'm too young to die i will never become a lawyer i'll never see her again i'll never see him again i love you i'll never finish the hunger games series my life is over and i've only spent it in this shitty school i'm going to die good i didn't want to live no wait yes i do someone save me 

And then I realise that these thoughts do not belong to me. My eyes are squeezed shut but I can feel the vibrations of people's thoughts around me. It's deafening. This has never happened before. My skin is condensing, steaming hot.

And then, with a last quick squeeze of Tyler's hand, the sprinklers come on.

Just in time.

In seconds the cold water has drenched me and put out the flames licking the walls. There are more screams, but of triumph. We are not dead. The fire is gone, and I never want to see another one in my lifetime. The voices in my head cease, and my own thoughts come freely. I think about the fact that my fingers are still entertwined with Tyler's and that I don't want to let go because I feel more powerful than I ever have. I don't feel weak anymore. I feel strong. I recall feeling a surge of energy go through me a millisecond before the sprinklers came on, and wonder if mine and Tyler's powers were combined for a final showdown. 

The double doors swing open, finally, and a police squad and a group of firemen burst in. The whole school is ushered out the door and into the night. Some students flee the scene as soon  as they get out the door, while others stay to moan about the state of their hair and eye-makeup. The teachers are trying to get everyone into a group and call a roll but we're past listening. I'm grateful that I wasn't wearing a nice expensive dress like the others were because they're all ruined now. Dresses don't suit me, anyway.

Tyler and I don't break our bond as we slowly walk through the spouts of water raining down on us. His curls are sticking to his forehead and I don't even care what I look like. 

"Did you feel that?" he whispers.

"Yes," I reply excitedly, breaking my trance. 

We emerge into the moonlight and into the herd of students who are either complaining or biting their lips in embarrassment of their hasty goodbyes.

I take precaution to make sturdy eye contact with everyone I see. Just as expected. All I can see is the obvious emotions leaking from their pupils and not much else. No addresses, no family history, no formal opinions, no past. They're just people again, not filed documents. It's so brilliant, I felt myself break into a huge smile. 

"I can't see anything, can you?" I asked Tyler.

"No. Wow, this is amazing." We look around in awe.

I horrid thought came to me. "Are we dead?" I asked worriedly.

He looked at me strangely. "No, I don't think so. Why would you say that?"

"Because it stops when you die. The ability passes through generations. When my grandmother died, she gave it to my dad, and when he died..." I trail off. I'm amazed I can actually form sentences after that ordeal.

"I'm alive. You're alive," Tyler hesitates. "But it looks like your old friend wishes he wasn't," he smirks  in the direction of the police cars.

I see Zac and the rest of his allies being escorted to scattered police cars around the auditorium. The others are yelling profanities and struggling but Zac is walking calmly. For a criminal, he can be very elegant. 

Tyler and I exchange looks. He nods at me and I break off to run after Zac. The grass is slippery as the firefighters are hosing it down. I held my balance as I ran to face Zac and the policeman who was looking at me disapprovingly. 

"Could I have a minute?" I ask.

He looks at me suspiciously for a moment and I realise with my casual clothing I possibly look like one of the perpetrators of the arson. 

"I'll need you to stand away, ma'am," he says in an authorative tone under his bristling moustache. Zac raises his eyebrows. I turn to him.

"How could you?" I asked pleadingly. 

"It's over now," he replied matter-of-factly. His eyes are cold. Emotionless.

"What is?" The cop's getting impatient now.

"It's over. I'm out of this mess now. I don't have to go back to them. The gang. I'm going somewhere safe," he says. "Right, Bruce?" Zac asked the policeman. 

"Look, just get in the car," Bruce sas gruffly, and pushes past me, placing a heavy, authorative hand on Zac's shoulder.

I grasp at words to describe what I'm feeling. All I can choke out is, "Bye, Zac." He nods my way folornly as Bruce ducks his head into the backseat of the cop car. I feel sad. Zac really did want out. And this is how he thought he'd get it. In a way, he's mentally free. But he might be imprisoned for a very long time. Somehow, in some way, I feel guilty. He didn't ask for this.

But I regain my composure and turn back to Tyler, who has appeared beside me.

"It really is over," I mumbled. 

"Maybe," he says.

I see Aiden. He is sitting on a low stone wall enclosing one of the school's decorative gardens and is embracing who I assume to be his boyfriend. Nobody is calling him out. Nobody is staring at or bullying him. Riley's not here, anyway.

Maybe she's finally visiting Alex.

I look at all the other kids crying and hugging and my hostility is gradually vanishing when I recognize the pain mingled with happiness in their tears and their smiles. I even sympathise with the girl in the teal dress as she sobs over the sodden fabric. She is only human, after all. 

And I cannot see into her life. I can't see into anyone's life anymore. I am free to make my own judgements and interpretations without the burden of other's secrets weighing me down.

Like Zac, I'm free.