(Alex's POV)
At first, no one payed mind to the fire alarm. It had been giving false alarms for the whole year, but because of budget cuts, no one had the time to fix it. My friend Jackie had gone to the bathroom, so I was left to stare at Taylor in peace. Then we smelled the smoke. The teacher ordered us out, herding us into lines. We funneled outside, into the bright blue world. That was when I realized Jackie was still in the bathroom. I called Ms. Smith over. She said we couldn't look for Jackie until the fire was sorted out. She turned away, calling the firefighters on her cellphone.
Earlier: (Taylor's POV)
I stared at the note in my hand. On it were all the things I wanted to say to Jackie. Notes about my crush. My depression. All the things I wanted to say, but I never had the courage to. I set the note on fire, staring at it blankly as it burned. I had done this before, as a sort of therapy. I'd burn my problems, and flush them down the toilet. No one would be any the wiser. I heard someone come in. I quickly dropped the smoldering note, and hurried out of the room. I slammed the bathroom door. Behind me, I heard Jackie call my name. I rushed back to class, praying that no one would notice how long I was gone. No one did. No one ever did.
(Jackie's POV)
I stared after Taylor's retreating back, wondering. I smelled the smoke long before I saw the fire. I dismissed it though. This bathroom always smells like an old BBQ. I did my business, and started washing my hands. The trouble came when I tried to open the bathroom door. I remembered Taylor slamming it. But it wouldn't open. The smoke smell was getting stronger. I started to panic. This room didn't have a window; the only exit was the door, which seemed to be stuck. I tugged on the door again. I could tell I was hyperventilating, but it didn't last long. I could feel a panic attack coming on. I passed out.
(Later, Alex's POV)
The firemen showed up, and quickly doused the fire. Apparently it had started in the bathroom. I glanced at Taylor. Taylor was lunging forward, pushing though the crowd, to where the firemen had cut open the door. I stared after. The firemen pushed Taylor back. Whatever was inside that building made Taylor pass out. Taylor slumped to the ground, blankly staring at nothing.
(Taylor's POV)
I lunged forward, staring at the place where my Jackie had been seen last. They tried to hold me back, but I still got a glimpse of the inside. A burned, smoking body. The face was blistering, and red, the clothes had been burnt away, the body horribly disfigured. And obviously, blindingly, dead. I passed out.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
When I woke, I was in a hospital bed, an IV hooked up to my arm. I stared at it, confused. Then I remembered. You killed him, my brain hissed. You killed the one you thought you would never harm. I buried my face in my hands. No, no no! I couldn't've killed him. He couldn't be dead! I saw him less then an hour ago! A nurse came in. She looked at me with sympathy. She asked if I was feeling better, and I told her I was. Even though nothing could be farther from the truth. My reason for living was gone.
(A week later)
They had finally let me out of the hospital, assuming that the shock had worn off. It hadn't. I just got better at hiding it. I stared at the noose I hung in my closet. I folded the note I had just finished, setting it on my bed carefully. I slipped the noose around my neck. The rough rope scratched at my throat. You don't have to do this. I stifled the thought. Then I jumped.
(Alex's POV)
They announced Taylor's suicide a year ago to date. I had considered suicide myself, for awhile, before deciding that I couldn't force the pain I felt onto other people, purposefully or not. I never forgot Taylor. I don't think I ever will. No one forgets their first crush. I stood over the gravestone. Taylor and Jackie had been buried side by side. The people I had most cared about, right next to each other. I left the flowers, and walked away.
