Transition (Rewrite)

Chapter 7: Burning Questions

Blue took on the liberty of escorting me to our next class, seeing as Alex's was across the school from ours. I was still a little dizzy, but I managed to walk to the auditorium without any trouble. Blue still insisted on getting our stuff from biology themself, however, leaving me to sit alone for a couple minutes as the drama class's band of misfits filed in.

Once Blue returned with about a minute to spare, I found that class rather enjoyable, getting to know the drama crew and Blue better. I had never been a part of the drama class before, so it was nice to meet some new, not-so hate-filled faces. After school ended, Alex gave me a ride home, and I crashed on my bed, exhausted.

I dozed off and immediately was plunged into nightmares. I was seriously getting tired of them.

I awoke with a start, pillows thrown off my bed-probably from thrashing about-and chest tight. I hadn't planned to sleep, so my binder was still on upon dozing off. Great. The clock on my desk read 6:18.

And there's my sleep for the day.

I peeled the satanic chest-hugger from my torso and threw on a pale blue Odyssey of the Mind sweatshirt-something I had gotten at the state competition a few years back-before pulling my current sketchbook and favorite pencil out of my backpack. I opened the physical manifestation of my soul up to a fresh page, placing my pencil down and letting my hand take control. I spent the next few hours sketching my built up anxiety away, stopping briefly to make myself a sandwich and make good use of the only dependable bathroom around.

Finally-after heavy nagging from my little sister, Ellie-I put up my drawings and began to prepare for bed. I headed out to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water so I could take my antidepressant-I had started it not long before the fire for anxiety disorder-before heading off to the bathroom to shower.

Showering was always calming for me as long as I didn't look down. Looking down reminded me of everything I hated about myself and triggered dysphoria, but if I closed my eyes, the white noise of the water falling and the feeling of the drops hitting my back and running down my body had a soothing factor. It was one of the only places where I could actually think.

I tried to process the weird events in the bathroom at school-the flames, how they seemed to come from me, and how they just disappeared. After the original shock in the moment, I realized how interesting it was, how much I wanted to learn more about it. They had to have some correlation with the day of the fire. They were the same unusual color, and they had the same light-absorbing effect. That couldn't be a coincidence. Maybe they even had something to do with the fire itself...

As if on cue, I noticed the warm tingle on my fingertips. I opened my eyes to see that the blue flames had returned, dancing across my left hand with unpredictable grace. It was surprising, but I was less scared than before. More intrigued than scared.

"How do I make you go away?" I muttered, squinting in thought as I watched.

I remembered when the disappeared earlier. I had imagined them gone; maybe that was it. Couldn't hurt to try.

The fire faded upon testing that theory.

Well that's one good thing today.