Broken - Isadora Quagmire

Chapter One - A Beginning

My name is Isadora Quagmire, I am 13 years old and this is my story. It is not a happy story, it's a story of fear, a story of grief, a story of unfortunate and horrifying events. I am not a writer, but I am writing this story in the hope that somehow, one day, tomorrow, this information will be used in bringing down the wickedness of the world that are ever present. This is my story.

"Things look bad" said my mother

"Sometimes when things look bad they turn out to be worse" replied father, both of their backs turned away from us "there are fires all around us, literally and figuratively"

"Then it's time we mount a Vigorous Fire Defence"

I, meanwhile, was reading a book called 'Female Finnish Poets' while sitting next to my brother Duncan, who was reading a newspaper. My other brother Quigley was studying a globe.

"Why do they keep talking about fire?" I whispered to Duncan.

"I know right?" he answered.

"We can hear you back there" said mother.

"If you'd have gone to my school, you would have flunked eavesdropping"

"What kind of school teaches eavesdropping?" Quigley asked, obviously as confused as me and Duncan.

"Come in children, it's past your bedtime" Mother spoke, avoiding Quigley's question as she guided us out of the room "we've got a big day tomorrow"

"Whats tomorrow?" I asked.

"It's a secret" Father said. I was confused, but I quickly turned and followed my brothers and Mother.

We walked upstairs and brushed our teeth, I brushed my hair and entered me and my brothers bedroom where my family were waiting for me. I got into bed and my parents tucked me in. They said goodnight and left.

"They're acting unusual" I said.

"They always act unusual when they get back" said Quigley.

"I guess so"

"Where do you think we're going tomorrow?" Duncan asked.

"I don't know" I said.

"Me neither" said Quigley.

"Night" I said.

"Goodnight" Duncan and Quigley called. It was NOT a good night.

I fell asleep almost immediately but was woken up around 15 minutes later by a distraught Duncan. He yanked me out of bed,

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"There's a fire" he said. He dragged me into our en-suite bathroom and dunked a small hand towel into the sink then gave it to me. He did the same thing with another towel.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"I saw it in an article the other day, put it over your mouth, trust me"

We walked out of the bedroom and along the smoke consumed hallway.

"I can barley see" I said

"Me neither, but we've lived here our entire lives, plus we can still see a little, come on"

Duncan guided me to our parents room, I opened the door and screamed for them, but they weren't there.

"They aren't here" said Duncan

"I know that. We should make our way outside, they might be waiting for us"

"Yes, I agree"

The lion-like fire filled many hallways along the way. The bright flames flickered and danced. They consumed anything in the way of their wrath as we journeyed down the stairs to the ground floor and ran along more corridors.