The Fire

Chapter Nineteen

Present

I don't think I slept on Thursday night. The thought of seeing everyone the next day scared me; everyone was unpredictable, and I didn't know what they would say or do. I stared at the ceiling for hours on end. Paying attention to the intricate details of the paintwork and the lines of where the brushes and rollers had traced the surface. I followed the trails around all four corners of my room until my eyes eventually became too tired and were forced to close.

***

My alarm made me jump out of my skin as the clock ticked over to 7:00. I rubbed my eyes and face to rid myself of sleep because I wanted to get myself ready as soon as possible to make myself look somewhat presentable for my first day back, so I drew as little attention as possible. If I was my normal self, people would be less likely to look my way and make me more self-conscious than I would already be.

I could hear my mum downstairs clanging plates against each other as she emptied the dishwasher. I hadn't given my mum enough credit this past week. She had put up with my sulky self, brought me food and drink whenever I needed it, and yet, still let me have the alone time I needed. My mum was great, and I didn't know what I would do without her.

The outfit I picked out included a pale pink blouse and blue jeans. I wore my hair in a French plait and topped off the ensemble with my white converse.

As I stepped out of my room, I noticed James' bedroom door was wide open but with no one inside. Was James coming back today too? If that was the case, my day would instantly turn worse. Everyone would take it out on him, and I didn't think I could stand to watch that. How could I when my so-called "friends" were calling my own brother a murderer? I peered into his room to check he definitely wasn't there and what I saw was horrendous. Clothes were strewn across the floor and bed, creating a river of grey and black. Food wrappers and dirty cutlery lay atop this sea and caused an unbearable odour to waft towards me. I turned up my nose and looked away. This really had hit James hard. I felt guilty for not checking in on him throughout the past few days instead of criticising him for possibly killing my best friends.

I wondered if he had already left or if he was sat downstairs waiting for me. I doubted the latter; if he had wanted to speak to me, he would have done it already.

Turns out I was right. Mum said James had left already. I grabbed my bag from the table, shoved my lunch into a convenient gap in between my books and left with a swift goodbye to my mum. I was in a good mood, surprisingly, given the circumstances but as I approached the university, my heart sank. The nostalgia of the fire had hit me already. Every person that was waiting outside on the grass instantly turned towards me and made my eyes drop to the floor. I didn't know how they noticed me so quickly, but I increased my walking speed and got inside the building as quickly as I could.

Down the corridor, I could see my brother. He was with his friends, but he still seemed out of it. Looking around him as if worried someone would come up behind him and make him jump. This time the eyes weren't focused on me, but they were focused on James. I tried to make eye contact with him, but he looked everywhere but me. Walking past him, I was interrupted by the sound of wailing.

Wailing.

What would be wailing?

Everyone else had caught on too and faced the windows and doors at the entrance.

Then the lights came.

Flashing blue and red.

Sirens.

Police sirens.

Driving up the street.

Why were they here? Did it have anything to do with Josh? Or even to do with James?

The cars pulled up outside the doors and four officers opened the doors and rushed down the hallway towards me. But then I realised they weren't coming for me, they were coming for my brother.

Two of the officers grabbed James by the wrists, one restrained him and the other began to speak.

"You are under arrest on suspicion of murder. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

My instinct was to run over to them immediately. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry ma'am, we would appreciate it if you would step aside."

"B-but he's my brother you can't take him away from me again!"

"Please step aside." The bigger police officer stepped towards me and I backed away to the side of the corridor. They couldn't do this, surely. But it was happening. My own brother was being arrested. On suspicion of murder. The murder of my very own friends. I couldn't believe it. James was being dragged out of the building by the police. I couldn't do anything about it either. Now he was the gossip of the school. People would forget about it in a few days, but I would have to live with it – forever. What if they were right? What if my brother was a murderer? What if he did start the fire in our house and the fire in Josh's car?

The mutter of disbelief started to spread through the corridor. I rushed to the bathroom as the tears started to fall down my cheeks. They must have new evidence, but what could they have found? Whatever it was, it was enough. Enough to think that James really was a murderer.