Jacqueline || BWWM

Chapter Twenty Five

Life doesn't always work out in the ways we wish for it too. For that reason, I'm left with myself.

"I-I'm Jacqueline. I m-moved here a couple of w-weeks ago. I lived in M-Montana before that."

The chances that anyone more than a couple of feet away from me heard my unclear words are very small, but I could care less. What matters is that my introduction is over, and now I can spend the next few minutes calming down my racing heartbeat.

Pretty much everyone is done talking about themselves when I finally come in contact with present day. The last person, A boy named Aaron something, barely finish explaining his facts when the bell rings.

The class zooms out at the speed of lightning, and this time I join them. The thought of another minute in the classroom overpowers my fear of being trampled.

Lunch!

These forty-five minutes are going to be the best part of my day. Number one reason is that I forgot my lunch. I also didn't bring money with me today, so I can't get cafeteria food or even junk from a chain restaurant.

With no food to devour, I decide to do what I've been meaning to do the whole entire day: go to the library.

For a school as big as River View, the library is pretty small. It's about the size of two classrooms combined, and besides the rows of books displayed everywhere, the only other factor that sets it apart from the classes I've been in are the reading inspired posters tapped to the pale white walls. A long wooden table houses a nice row of computers on the side of the wall.

Because of how tiny the library is and how nice the technology is, I have a theory that instead of buying books, the school bought computers. This leads me to me believe that most of the dusty books causally resting on the shelves have been in that position for at least a couple decades. The fire happened about ten years ago.

Computers it is.

That finally decided, I plant my butt down in a chair and search up a simple name: Elaina Hathway, Park Hills WA.

A hand full of results light up my screen within ten seconds. After skimming through all my options, I click the blue link that seems the most professional. The blank white page fills up with words seconds after the click. On top is huge, capitalized black letters is the title of the century:

ELAINA ND DAVID HATHWAY ARE DEAD.

My breath clogs in my throat, and I have to look away from the blinding to have a chance at breathing normally.

You can do this.

My mind conjures up bloody imagines of my parents trying to escape the fill filled house. I imagine my mom running down the narrow hallway to Nathan and I's room. The path is filled with fire that eats away at her night clothe with every step she takes. She reaches the room and shoves the door open. Nathan lies in his little crib, thumb in mouth, unaware of what's really going on and still expecting the cookie I promised him. Mom rips him from his little cage and covers as much of his body as she can with her petite arms. She tries to rush back down the hall, but the journey is much harder with a baby to protect. None the less, she makes it. Now she stands near the fire covered stairs. The only spot free of flames is the one she stands on. Looking around her for the safest path she could take to safety, it soon becomes clear that no such thing exists. Fear wraps it bloody hands around her small body, choking her as the realization that she and her baby probably won't make it out alive. 

I force myself to stop thinking before I can conjure up what might have happened next, and my mind becomes a blank canvas. I lay my head down on the computer's black keyboard and stare at nothing.