Losing Eight Lives

9 | The Journey Home

The walk to my house seemed to take forever. We walked in silence most of the way, and the temperature felt as if it dropped ten degrees every minute.

Walking farther and farther away from the fire, it just got colder. At first, chills that ran down my spine were the only signs that I was cold. But halfway through the walk, I was utterly miserable.

I couldn't control my shivering. My entire body ached from the movement. My feet and hands were numb, and I could barely move the muscles on my face. I got weaker and weaker throughout the walk, but I still went on. However at one point, I felt an abrupt wave of fatigue wash over me, and I could barely stay standing.

"J-Jace," I shivered, "I-I think we sh-should take a break and lay d-down f-for a bit." It hurt to talk so I didn't wait of an answer, and plopped down on the frozen ground.

"No Phoebe!" Jace practically screamed. He came behind me and stood me up again.

"Jac-ce," I whined miserably. "I j-just w-want a break."

"Phoebe, if you fall asleep you could slip into a coma and freeze to death," he looked the way we were heading. "W-we can make it if we hurry," he took off the sweatshirt he was wearing and slipped it over my shoulders.

It felt warm on the inside. Inviting, and boosted my energy levels a little. I still shivered, but I knew I could make it through. However, I didn't take it without any reluctancy.

"B-but then you'll-you'll freeze," I protested.

"Don't worry about me," his teeth already chattered. "I've had it on this whole time remember?"

I nodded and we started walking again.

The long, cold, walk to my house left a lot of time for thinking--even though most of my mind was occupied with the cold.

My thoughts wandered about things that weren't important as I clung to the warm sweatshirt Jace gave me. I didn't have a lot of time to enjoy it--since my brain was occupied with the temperature--but I appreciated the warmth and softness.

I let my thoughts wander again, until my gaze landed on the woods behind my house, and I realized something. The only thing separating my house from the school was that thin patch of woods. What if the woods caught on fire? What if my house caught on fire?

I shook my head and told myself how ridiculous the thought was. The fire department would be there by the time the fire even reached the grass. But in thinking of the fire, I wondered why the alarms didn't go off. Or why none of the cars on the roads called 9-1-1 when they saw the burning school.

It just didn't make sense.

When we finally reached my house, we found no one home. The house looked deserted and there were no cars in the driveway.

But the front door wasn't locked.

When I opened it, we practically burst through the door, and shut it tight behind us. My house was much warmer than outside.

I sighed with relief as I started to feel my hands and feet again--even though my fingers and toes told a different story.

Jace sat on the couch, hugging his knees and shivering--staring at nothing in front of him.

"Here," I handed him his sweatshirt, but quickly pulled it back realizing something. "Wait, I have a better idea," I took two blankets from the couch and handed one to Jace. "Wrap yourself in this for now."

He took it gratefully and I headed for my laundry room.

-=-=-=-

I handed him his sweatshirt and the other blanket. His eyes glowed with happiness and relief as I helped him wrap the warm clothing and blanket around him. He sighed through a smile.

"Fresh out of the dryer." I returned his smile.

"Thank you," he whispered, putting his head back and closing his eyes.

I nodded and ran upstairs to take a shower. That shower was the single most amazing thing I've ever taken. It warmed me up until I had, at the most, a slight chill now and then.

I pranced down the stairs with wet hair and saw Jace in the same state of joy I was. He walked out of my dining room with his sweatshirt and blanket still wrapped around him.

"I thought your mom didn't work," Jace said, suddenly looking a little worried.

"She doesn't," I stated, loosing the smile on my face. "Maybe she just went shopping," and left the door unlocked for anyone to just walk in. I realized, starting to panic.

Jace and I proceeded to search the house, and met up in the living room--confirming that no one was home.

"Well we can still get some warm clothes and call 9-1-1." I studied Jace. "I don't think any of my clothes would fit you, but if you want to change we can see if you fit in any of my dad's clothes." I said hopefully. I was left wishing I had a sibling that was his size.

"It's fine. My clothes aren't that bad," He opened the blanket and looked down at his sweatshirt and pants with many holes and burns.

I sighed, "Jace you look like a homeless man," I told him, and started up the stairs. "I'll find you something."

He didn't protest, "I'll call 9-1-1."

-=-=-=-

We met up once again in the living room. I came with lots of my dad's smaller clothes for him to try on and he came with news, but no longer his blanket.

"Want to know how my conversation with 9-1-1 went?" he sounded exasperated, and didn't wait for an answer. "'9-1-1 what's the emergency?'" he mimicked the lady that must have been on the other end. "Yeah, I'd like to report a middle school fire in Portland, Maine." he said in his normal voice, and suddenly looked at me in disbelief--like what he was about to say was hard to believe. "And she hung up on me," he stared at me, studying my reaction.

My mouth dropped open, and I stared at him. What?

"Yeah," he said. "So then I tried a few more times, and they all ended the same way." He sat on my couch, elbows resting on his knees and chin rested on his hands. "What is going on?" he asked, more to himself. Plead and desperation could be heard in his tone--a feeling that caused me pain to listen to.

And even though I stood there utterly dumbfounded, I realized I had the same question running through my head.