The Fire of Notre Dame

Chapter 1: An Average Morning

The first thing that hit me was the smoke. It was black and thick and dark. Next thing I knew, I was feeling a blast of heat. It was getting harder and harder to breathe as my body temperature quickly rose.

But we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves. Let's start from the beginning. Well, from that morning.

It was a normal day, nothing particularly different or out of place. It began a little like this:

My older, twin sister shook me awake, saying, "Gigi, get up! It's nearly six thirty! Maman already made breakfast and she won't be happy if you oversleep again."

I pushed her hands off of me. "Go away, Violetta. Just ten more minutes."

She thrust the sheets off of my tired body and grabbed both my wrists, pulling me to an upright position.

"I hate you," I muttered groggily.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Violetta groaned. "Just get out of bed."

I took my time, slowly slipping one leg out of the sheets, then the other. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and recoiled at feeling of the cold, wooden floor beneath my feet. "It's too early for any sane person to be up," I moaned.

"We're going to be late for school if you don't stop complaining," Violetta said in frustration.

"Go now, and leave me!" I exclaimed, quoting her favorite musical.

My sister rolled her eyes. "Just get out of bed."

"Alright, alright," I sighed, dragging myself out of bed. "I'm up."

Violetta pushed me out of my bedroom door and into the kitchen. "Look who finally woke up," she said, standing me in front of Maman.

"I see that," she chuckled. "Sit down. Breakfast is getting cold."

"When will Papa be back from his business trip to London?" I inquired, taking a bite of my pancakes.

"He will fly in around noon," Maman replied with a smile, sipping her coffee.

I hastily finished my breakfast and returned to my room. I tied my dark brown hair into a ponytail and pulled on my favorite long-sleeved, black and white, striped top and a pair of black jeans. I complete the outfit with a red scarf tied around my neck for a bit of color, and a pair of black ballet flats.

Violetta came and knocked on my open door to get my attention. "Are you ready yet?" She asked impatiently.

I grabbed my backpack and swung it over my shoulder. "I am now. Let's go," I sighed.

My sister and I headed out into the lukewarm morning, and went to the bus stop. All the while, my thoughts were focused on our plans for that night.

"Violetta! Gigi! Wait up!" Called our friend, Jane, as she ran down the sidewalk after us.

"Good morning," I smiled.

Violetta echoed my greeting.

"How are my favorite twin sisters?" Jane grinned.

I laughed. "We're good."

"I'll speak for myself, thank you," Violetta scoffed. "But, to answer your question, I'm good. Thanks for asking."

I rolled my eyes. We were sixteen, yet Violetta still acted like she was seven at times. I didn't understand it. I shook my head and asked, "How are you?"

"I'm great," Jane replied, beaming. "I'm very excited for our excursion."