Caught in the Blaze

Beginning of the End

3

It was midnight, and the fresh air felt like heaven on Amber's free skin. Millions of stars were splattered across the sky like brilliant glowing paint droplets onto a black depthless canvas, and Amber tried not to remember the last time she saw the night sky. That was long ago, three and half years ago, on a night nobody wished to remember, especially Amber. But that day was burned into her memory like scars from walking on hot coals, she would never forget, and for that she was somewhat grateful. She deserved to remember every disaster the whirlwind of her life had created, she deserved the punishment of her guilt-so instead of forcing it back into the chainless depths of her mind, she embraced the memory like a suicidal man embraces the rush of wind as he awaits the crack of pavement below.

Now more than ever she recalled the singing crickets of the front yard driveway, the gravel crunch beneath her footsteps, but tonight was a different kind of escape.

"I'm going to miss you, Amber." The shrink said, smiling like the mother Amber wished she never had. Her soft brown hair was pulled into a tight bun, her red glasses matching her colored lips, and her smile made her face seem even younger in the dark.

"You too," Amber replied, ignoring the feeling of loneliness in the pit of her stomach as it began to spiral upwards and curl about her spine like a chilling snake. Departure was strange to think about, even stranger to act on, but she knew that the shrinks number and email in the back of her pocket would forever go on ignored.

She had been released, finally, back into the civilized world of lost dreams and broken faces. The judgment went according to all Dr. Collins hopes and aspirations, and Amber had been officially released by the same judge who had detained her years ago.

The courtroom was stifling and hot, heated bars of sunlight streaming through the dusty windows into the wooden everything room. But that was over, done with, forgotten, already receding into the files of unnecessary memories you don't realize you even have. It was the middle of the night now, and Amber was leaving through the back door of the institute so the local newspaper couldn't snap a picture of the latest child murderer being released.

A black car lingered idly near the trash bins, and two other officials waited for Amber to get into the car. The shrink was the only one Amber was interested in saying goodbye to, not even Shooter held any emotional firepower over her. She felt free and liberated, loose like a floating buoy in the vast expansive ocean. She felt nothing for anybody, she only had herself, and emotional attachments were a stay-away danger zone. Soon the car would take her to a train, which would take her to an airplane, which would carry her to the sunny California coast where a grandfather she never met lived willing to take her under his roof.

She knew before she even arrived that this supposed grandfather of hers and herself would not be close. Amber would never allow it, just as she didn't allow Tyler, her half-brother living the good life on the Florida Keys, to come visit her.

Alone. That's what she wanted to be. No one there to let her down, to disappoint her or hurt her. No one to rely on. Just her own horrible mind to wallow in.

The shrink smiled. The car door closed. The quiet ate at her ears, a quiet she knew she would get used to.

...

High school was a startling thing. That life, that people, and school could go on as if uninterrupted blew Amber's mind. People liked her. They were drawn to her golden hair and cynical, almost dark, wit, and her smile that promised she knew more than a life of sunny coasts and surf tans. She was interesting, different, three-dimensional.

Amber was ushered into the world of the pretty and popular-the shallow and happy. It felt refreshing and frustrating at the same time. She smiled tightly every day until her face ached, she laughed rarely, and joined conversation even less besides the occasional sarcastic remark when it was expected. People would laugh, both out of humor and unease.